Linework
by ohmyairpower
Summary: AU where Emily is a tattoo artist. JJ's looking to commemorate the start of a new life through ink; Emily helps her get there. JJ/Emily, femslash. Angst/Romance. Rated T, with discussion of M-rated themes.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Linework

Rating: T (with borderline M-rated moments)

Pairing: JJ/Emily

Summary: AU where Emily is a tattoo artist. JJ's looking to commemorate the start of a new life through ink; Emily helps her get there. JJ/Emily, femslash. Angst/Romance. Rated T, with discussion of M-rated themes.

Linework: Chapter 1

"I am a canvas of my experiences. My story is etched in lines and shading, and you can read it on my arms, my legs, my shoulders, and my stomach." - Kat von D

She tapped the power button on her phone, awakening the display screen. 9:56pm. A breath in. A breath out. Thirty seconds passed. She tapped the button again. 9:57pm. Three minutes to decide. Three minutes until closing time. In or out. She started with fifteen minutes and now she was down to three.

Jennifer Jareau, underpaid and under-appreciated media liaison for the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Office, stood outside the colorfully lit New Orleans tattoo and piercing parlor. She shifted from one foot to the other, the winter air chilling her. Though if she were being honest with herself, she'd admit the chill came from elsewhere.

She tapped her phone again. 9:58pm. Now or never.

And it had to be now, because if there was one thing JJ was learning, it was that "never" was far too permanent of a concept.

The small blonde barely remembered the walk from the sidewalk to the stairs, the stairs to the door, and the door to the waiting room, but suddenly, her environment shifted from cold and alone to bright and bustling.

"Why hello there, sugar plum, welcome to your heaven or your hell, your redemption or your sin, your folly or your saving grace, otherwise known as Body Art Unleashed," greeted a pink and purple haired, brightly dressed, very tattooed woman. JJ's jaw dropped, startled by the enthusiasm.

"Pen, Baby Girl, you gotta stop scarin' away customers like that," chuckled a deep but smooth voice to her right. She glanced to her side, taking in the owner of the voice - a dark, handsome man with some sort of tribal-patterned sleeve and blue latex gloves. The man stripped them off, tossed them nonchalantly into the trash can, and offered his hand.

"M'name's Derek Morgan, I own Body Art Unleashed, also known as the BAU." JJ took his hand and shook it, unable to speak. "And this gorgeous lady right here is Penelope Garcia. She's one of our newer tattooers and our receptionist most of the time. Still not sure whether she's helping or hurting business, though," he said with a laugh.

JJ nodded, her shoulders loosening a little bit. This was completely out of her comfort zone, but they seemed friendly. She noticed Derek and Penelope watching her intently, and she mentally kicked herself. _Oh right, introduce yourself, idiot._ "Hi! Hi... I'm, uh, I'm JJ. I was looking into... into getting a tattoo. Not today, I don't have any and I still need to design it, but I thought I'd just look around, if that's okay I mean..."

"Totally okay!" the man immediately assured her, flashing his pearly-white smile. "We're supposed to close shop in a couple of minutes anyway, but we'll be open until our last client's finished."

Derek gestured back to the sectioned off room, and right then, JJ heard a gruff man's voice, and a gorgeous feminine laugh follow it.

"So someone's getting tattooed right now?" JJ asked, again kicking herself for how inexperienced she knew she sounded.

"Someone's always gettin' inked, baby," Derek laughed, and touched JJ's shoulder. Immediately, JJ flinched, and Derek must have noticed, because he took his hand away and gestured her to follow him instead. JJ took a breath and tried to calm herself. _You can't react like that every single time someone touches you._ Letting the quick flash of panic pass, she followed Derek into the back room.

The first thing she noticed were the walls around her. Every inch of wall space was covered with some sort of painted tattoo design - a lot of patriotic themed ones, a good number of pin-ups, lots of animals. Around the room were shelves, filled with what she assumed were tattoo equipment pieces and different colored inks, and various stools were set up around the room. After taking in what she could of her surroundings, she finally turned her attention to the two individuals in the room other than Derek, the source of the voice and the laugh. JJ was surprised to see that the gruff voiced man was the client, and the owner of the laugh was the one tattooing.

"I swear to god, Rodney, you make a comment like that again and I'll give this lion the cartooniest eyes you've ever fuckin' seen," the woman taunted with a laugh, her eyes sparkling as she comfortably worked the tattoo machine on a section of the man's arm. She paused every few seconds to wipe his arm with the paper towel she held in her other hand. Was that ink or blood she was soaking up?

"Shut up, Em, you know I'm right," the older man laughed back.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, now stop moving, Rod," the woman chuckled. JJ took the opportunity to take the tattoo artist in. Her frayed band shirt had its sleeves cut off, revealing gorgeous artwork trailing down both of her arms and eventually disappeared under her latex gloves. The woman's dark hair, accented with a streak of bright blue, was pulled lazily back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, and silver earrings hung from her earlobes, highlighting the gentle arch of her neck. JJ's eyes eventually trailed to her lips, curled into a carefree smile that struck JJ in a way she couldn't quite explain.

"'Ey, Prentiss," Derek called out, alerting the artist and her client to their presence. JJ was a little disappointed, wanting to observe the woman under the radar for a couple moments longer.

The brunette pulled back the machine before twirling her stool to face them. "Morgan! What do we have here?" The tattooed woman flashed JJ a wide smile, and the blonde's cheeks flushed under her gaze.

"Reeled in a newbie," the man announced. "Well, Pen tried to scare her away, but I managed to intervene in time."

"Hey," JJ said awkwardly and offered a small smile. "My name's JJ, I hope you don't mind me being back here, I've just been considering getting a tattoo and kind of wanted to know how it worked, and-"

"Pull up a stool, sweetheart," the older woman said invitingly, cutting off her rambling, and gestured to the spot beside her with her elbow. Seeing the blonde taken care of, Derek smiled at JJ and left the room.

"Oh, okay," JJ said, surprised. She turned to the man in the chair and asked, "You sure you don't mind me watching?"

"She's tattooing me, cutie, not fuckin' me, though I keep telling her I wouldn't be opposed..." the client said with a laugh that made it clear he was joking.

"Hey, buddy, you want this needle in your eye?" Emily threatened with faux-bravado, whirring the machine for emphasis. "Cuz that's where it might end up." The pair laughed as JJ rolled the nearest stool over to beside the artist. She made sure to give the woman enough room.

"I'm Emily, by the way," the artist said, her warm chocolate brown eyes meeting JJ's own guarded blue ones.

JJ smiled. "Hi, Emily."

"And this bad boy right here is Rodney," Emily told her as the man smiled warmly at her. "This is, what, the seventh piece I've done on ya? You'd think he'd be tired of me by now."

Rodney shook his head with a grin. "You came to the right place, darlin'. Prentiss does the best linework in town, no question about it."

Emily continued to work red ink into Rodney's skin in comfortable silence for a few more minutes. JJ was surprised how quickly she felt at ease - a lot faster than she did in her own home. Something was just comfortable about the periodic whirring of the tattoo machine, the punk playing moderately in the background, and Emily's tiny inquisitive noises to herself as she worked.

Eventually, JJ found the courage to speak again. "All that red - is that ink or blood?"

"Mostly ink, a little blood," Emily answered, wiping his upper arm again with the paper towel. "Always bleeds a little bit, but never excessively."

"Mhm... So, it hurts, yeah?"

"Pshh, thousands of puncture wounds made by rapidly moving needles is super fuckin' comfortable," Emily teased, and JJ felt her own lips pull into a grin. "But nah, it just depends on the piece, and the location. Tiny piece on your thigh is a cat scratch. Six hour tattoo on your skull, though...that'll make all but the toughest pass the hell out."

After a few more minutes of work, Emily had finished on Rodney's lion. She and Rodney slung banter back and forth for a little while longer as Emily cleaned his arm and taped a bandage over it. JJ took the opportunity to continue her admiration of the artwork on the walls as Emily and Rod sorted out payment and scheduled a touch-up session.

When Emily returned, JJ was standing in front of an eight by twelve print of a phoenix.

"Did you do this?" JJ asked, gesturing to the piece. "It's gorgeous."

"Yeah, that's all me, but you'll never guess the story behind it," Emily said as her lips curled upwards.

JJ found herself grinning, enjoying Emily's sporadic smirks, the ones that showed she had her own jokes with herself. "Well, I have no reason to doubt you. You gonna tell me?"

"That beautiful, majestic, glorious phoenix right there," Emily delivered, pausing dramatically in the middle of her sentence, "was something I sketched up for a woman who wanted a phoenix shooting out of her vagina."

A loud laugh tore out of JJ, and she studied Emily's face, trying to assess if she was joking or not. "Please tell me you're not serious."

"As serious as a heart attack," Emily replied. "I want to hang the actual picture on the wall, but Morgan won't let me. Says a vagina shouldn't be hanging on the wall. But hey, it's a perfectly nice sight to look at."

JJ couldn't stop the blush from reaching her cheeks, and Emily made an apologetic noise and rubbed JJ's back with her hand. JJ didn't flinch at the contact.

"Sorry, darlin', I'm being too impolite for your ears, aren't I?"

"Not at all," JJ assured her. "You guys are... really funny, if that's not weird to say."

"Wouldn't see why it would be," Emily responded and gestured to a photo of Emily, Derek, and Penelope on the wall. "We're a tight bunch. Those dorks are my best friends."

"That's really sweet." JJ observed the loving expression on all of their faces, and the image warmed the pit in her stomach more than she thought it would.

"But hey, enough about us - not the focus here. Tell me about what you're looking to get."

"Oh! Um, I know it's past your closing time, I can come back another day-"

"It's cool, babe. I'm in no rush."

JJ tried to think of the words to express her thoughts, but couldn't find them. How could she ask an artist to draft up a design to represent events she could barely share with a journal, much less a stranger? _I should've thought this through better._

Emily sensed the blonde's discomfort and frowned. "Hey, I hope I didn't scare you back there. It's really not that painful, Rod and I just like to goof off."

"No, no, you didn't scare me. Quite the opposite." JJ smiled at the other woman, trying to convey her sincerity. "I just... I have a lot of thoughts about what I want, but the reasoning behind it is all very personal, and I have no experience in this area. I probably should have come in after I had a clearer image in my mind. I just thought being here would help formulate it all."

"Absolutely will," Emily confirmed with a nod of her head. "Well, let me suggest something to ya. There's a nice, quiet bar called the Bullpen just down the street from the shop, I tend to grab a couple beers there after work to unwind. Why don't you come with me, and we'll chat about it there?"

JJ paused for a moment, wondering if Emily genuinely wanted her company, or if she was just being polite. _She's not him, not everyone is him. Some people mean what they say, Jayj,_ she told herself. "Um... sure, I'd really love to. Only if you don't mind. I understand if you don't want to bring work home, so to speak."

"When you love your work as much as I do, bringing work home is never a bad thing," Emily said with a wide smile. "Let me just lock up shop. I'll meet you outside in a minute, k?"

Linework - Linework - Linework

Soon enough, JJ and Emily were seated in a corner booth at the Bullpen. Emily picked up the first round, which was spent on safe conversation topics - JJ told Emily a bit about her work as a media liaison, that she grew up in Pennsylvania but moved down to Louisiana after college for a change of environment, that she enjoyed running and hiking. Emily provided her with similarly safe information - she moved around a lot because her mother was an Ambassador, she spent some time in the Air Force before deciding to pursue a more artistic path after her contract was over, how she spent almost all her time with Derek and Penelope. Conversation flowed easily, and JJ found herself laughing with her new acquaintance more than she had in a long time.

It wasn't until JJ came back with the second round that Emily moved to deeper territory. "So," Emily started as JJ handed her another beer. "Tattoos."

JJ took a deep swig from her bottle before letting out a long sigh to compose herself. "Yeah. This is going to sound ridiculous, but I was hoping to get a pretty big tattoo on my ribs. Which I hear is a painful area, and I know you're not supposed to go big on your first one..."

Emily shook her head. "It's your body, you can do what you want. If you want it, it's not ridiculous."

JJ soaked in her words before nodding slowly. "I guess..."

"Let me ask you this, is whatever you're thinking of getting important to you?"

"Very," she answered instantly.

Emily nodded and smiled. "Then it's a good choice. If the design ends up being big or complex, we can always spread it out over multiple sessions, one for the outline and then however many for the shading. Now, are you going to tell me what you want?"

"Yes. Yeah," JJ said, her finger tracing the rim of her beer bottle. "I'd really like... well, a tree along my rib cage. With some other stuff added in, though. I was thinking, I don't know if you can draw this, but the roots of the tree turning into chains, or ropes, but they fray apart and open up towards the bottom. Along my hipbone, kind of. And at the center of it, there'd be a blackbird. The blackbird's the main focus of it, the tree is just context. And there'd be a nest with a bird's egg in it. That's important. And I was hoping the trees could trail up into the phases of the moon, kind of... y'know, woven into the tree branches. And that'd be trailing closer to the top of my ribs, maybe three or four inches under my armpit." JJ paused her rambling, but when she saw Emily was still listening intently, she continued. "And the whole thing would be... Bright, but not in a playful sense, you know? In a, 'morning is coming' sort of way. It'd be serious, but hopeful. Delicate, but strong. Unbreakable." JJ took a gulp, pushing the emotion building up in her throat back down. "So... Something like that."

Emily nodded slowly, and when she remained silent, JJ got nervous. "Is that... impossible to draw? Sorry, I don't really know anything about tattooing-"

"There's nothing about that I can't do," Emily replied nonchalantly. "You actually have a pretty definite image in your head of what you want."

JJ nodded tentatively, uneasy that the normally sarcastic and joking tattoo artist was suddenly so serious. "So... you'll do it, then?"

"Of course," Emily replied. "I can start working on it whenever you want me to. It'll take more than one planning session for me to draw the whole thing exactly the way you want it, and definitely more than one session to tattoo it. But it's doable."

"That's great. I'm really glad to hear that."

"However, JJ, I gotta ask. Are you going to tell me anything of the context?"

"I...I thought I did."

"I mean, the emotional context. You said you wanted it to convey...how did you word it? 'Morning is coming'?" When JJ nodded, Emily continued. "Are you going to tell me what the morning is, and what the night was?"

JJ stayed silent.

"You don't have to," the older woman clarified. "It's none of my business, and I can draw up the images regardless. You can tell me if what I draft up is what you want, and if it isn't, I can draw you another version. That being said... it's clear emotional relevance is extremely important in what you're looking for."

The pair took a few more sips from their bottles, but JJ kept watching Emily, which Em took as a sign that she hadn't crossed any boundaries yet. "JJ, in a way, tattoo artists are like therapists. Despite having never seen you before, you trust them with the most meaningful aspects of yourself and your life. If you want me to tattoo you, you are agreeing to let me permanently mark you with an interpretation of a story or journey that obviously means a lot to you. Given that fact, I want to make it clear you can share with me as much or as little as you want to."

JJ's heart was thumping out of her chest, but not in a bad way. The anxiety set her skin on fire instead of making her want to throw up as it normally did. She gazed deeply into the dark haired woman's eyes and saw nothing but genuine care. JJ knew Emily was right. This piece of art - a testament to all she had overcome - would mean something very deep to her, and she needed it done properly.

"You're right. But it is a lot to share with someone. The reasons behind it all."

Emily smiled sadly and took another swig. "I know, sweetheart. Like I said, you don't have to if you don't want to. I just think it might allow me to more accurately produce a sketch that you like."

JJ nodded, tearing off the bottle's wrapper to occupy her hands. She glanced at Emily's own hands and allowed her eyes to trace upward, sweeping along her tattooed arms.

"Since we're getting personal," JJ said quietly, "will you tell me the story behind all of your tattoos?"

Emily's lips curled a little bit into a tender smile. "How about we trade. Each time we meet, I'll tell you the story of one tattoo. Any tattoo, you can choose. And in return, you tell me a little piece of your blackbird story."

JJ was quiet for a few moments before she returned Emily's smile. "Deal."

Emily grinned. "Okay then. I'll start. Which tattoo do you want to know about?"

The younger woman studied Emily's body intently, but couldn't get too clear of a sight on any of them in the dimly lit bar. "How about... what was your first tattoo?"

The older woman started laughing, and she pulled her left knee close to her body, beginning to roll up her pant leg. "Of course. Of course you ask about the only bad tattoo I have."

"Oh no, am I going to regret what I'm about to see?" JJ responded with a giggle, the beer starting to hit her a little bit.

"Now it's _your_ mind in the gutter, Jayj," Emily laughed back. JJ's stomach flipped a little bit at the use of her nickname. She liked hearing it in Emily's confident and carefree voice.

"Okay, okay. Well, get talking," JJ prompted, smirking.

Emily pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and opened a flashlight app, pointing the light at her ankle. "You heard of stick-n-pokes, darlin'?"

"I have," JJ confirmed.

"Well, my first tattoo was a stick-n-poke." The brunette moved her phone closer to her body, and JJ could see a shakily done arrow on her ankle. "I was 14 at the time and going through a rebellious phase. My friend - I thought he was super cool, by the way, he smoked cigarettes and stole alcohol and all that - was getting into stick-n-pokes, and I thought it'd be _totally badass_ to get one. A nice little 'fuck you' to my mother, of course. So anyway, I got an arrow on my ankle to signify that with every step, I was always moving forward. However small that step was, I was still going forward."

Emily smiled softly, tracing the asymmetrical arrow with her finger, and JJ enjoyed watching her. Something about it seemed so intimate.

"I like it," JJ told her sincerely, and Emily met her gaze.

"Yeah, me too," Emily agreed, her voice quiet. "Everyone says you'll regret the dumb tattoos, yeah? The stick-n-pokes you get as a kid to try to seem badass. But I don't think I'll ever regret this one. It may be dumb, but it was and still is important to me."

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Emily rolled her pant leg back down and turned her phone back off.

"So, that's my tattoo story for the day."

"I appreciate it," JJ said, and settled back into her seat a little bit. "So, my turn, right?"

"Like I said, you don't need to feel pressured into telling me anything you don't want to. I respect your privacy. But, I do care, and I do want to know."

JJ smiled at her and ran her thumb down the now-empty beer bottle a couple times before speaking. "Blackbirds have a lot of symbolism to them, you know?" The older woman didn't say anything, but nodded. "They're typically associated with bad luck. Blackbirds aren't a good sign, generally. But they're also a sign of vigilance. Watchfulness. Preparation, even. And then, of course, there's that famous Beatles song. The whole, 'Take these broken wings and learn to fly' line really speaks to me..."

The younger woman cleared her throat and looked back down at the table. She blinked the tears that were beginning to form out of her eyes. Her days of crying were over. "I just got out of an abusive relationship."

Emily's jaw tightened, and she brought her hand to JJ's, softly clutching it for support. "JJ, I'm so sorry."

JJ shook her head, but flipped her hand over so she could hold Emily's. "It's okay. I'm okay. It's just... I'd been in it for so many years. The world's been dark for so long and I know I'm back in the light, but it's hard, it's just hard accepting it. I'm trying to move on, but I see him. I feel him. I don't remember what it feels like to be safe. To feel worthy of living. And I know that'll change. Things have already improved so much in the past month. I just... I need to remind myself that things are getting better... It's tough, but every day that passes is a day I regain a little piece of my life..."

Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes before she knew it, and JJ pulled her hand back from Emily's. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The full story is way too long and I should stop there. You don't have to listen to any of this."

"JJ," Emily said seriously. The blonde raised her gaze to meet the brunette's, and Emily conveyed as much support as she could through her eyes. Not breaking the eye contact, Emily pulled a pen from her bag and scrawled her phone number on her napkin. "Here," she said, handing it to JJ. "If you ever need someone to talk to. Or not talk to. If you just want to sit and be in friendly company. Whatever you need. My phone is always on."

JJ accepted the napkin graciously and quickly wiped her eyes with her shirt sleeve. "Thanks, I appreciate it, and I'm sorry, you weren't looking to have a drink with a mess-"

"You are not a mess. You have nothing to be sorry for. And I enjoyed your company tonight," Emily told her forcefully. Something about the tone of her voice made JJ feel a little less shitty. She got the sense that for some reason unbeknownst to her, Emily really did care about her. "Thank you for sharing that with me. That couldn't have been easy. But I'm glad you did, and I will do everything in my power to help do this justice. Do _you _justice."

This time, JJ reached for Emily's hand, and she squeezed it appreciatively. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Emily."

Emily smiled at her, and JJ felt the burden in her chest lift a little bit. "You call me whenever you feel comfortable getting together again. I'll have some sketches done up by the time you do."

Linework - Linework - Linework

"My body is my journal, and my tattoos are my story." - Johnny Depp

I have the story arc planned out, it should be five or six chapters long. I know this is pretty AU, but tattoos are a passion of mine, and after JJ and Emily's conversation about tattoos in 200, I just had to write it. Please review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Linework

Rating: T, with mentions of M-rated themes

Pairing: JJ/Emily

A/N: Thank you so much for the positive reception! I was a little worried, posting an AU that was so distant from the actual Criminal Minds universe, but I'm thrilled that people are willing to give it a shot. Thank you especially to Abi for letting me bounce ideas off of her, and also to ghostwriter6647, IniTiniNini, Wineplease78, Songstress82, mxfan88, Liptony, rmpcmfan, chawkchic, Aelpharose, -Bradford021312, Ali Davis, justjibz, Angelsheart85, and guest for reviewing.

TW: The first 5,000 words or so of this chapter are very lighthearted, but the second half gets dark. Nothing actually happens, but physical abuse, emotional abuse, and sexual assault are all discussed, so trigger warning for those topics.

Linework: Chapter 2

"Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past." - Jack London

When JJ finally got back to her apartment, it was close to one in the morning. She plugged her phone into its charger by her bedside table and dropped the napkin next to it unceremoniously. Her skin buzzed with anxious electricity as she thought about all the personal information she shared with the tattoo artist. JJ could barely talk to her family about what was happening with Will, but she thought it was okay to dump it all on a stranger?

Stripping off her clothes and tossing them in the hamper, she hopped into the shower to clear her head. As the warm stream of water cascaded down her back, she glanced down at her abdomen, letting her fingertips ghost over the skin. It was bruised in some places, with traces of scratch marks still visible in others... but it was healing. The process was slow, but with every day that passed, the marks Will left on her body were being replaced with herself again.

For a long time, she viewed her own body and Will's markings with such disdain. Her skin hadn't felt like her own in so long... But she was making progress. Every day was a small step, and that's what counted.

It was just past one thirty when she finally returned to her bed and slid underneath her coverlet. She reached for the switch on her lamp, about to turn it off, but paused. Instead, she grabbed her phone and the napkin and quickly punched in the digits.

_Hey, it's JJ_, she tapped into the text message window. _I just wanted to let you know I had a good time tonight. Thanks for chatting with me, and I hope to see you sometime soon._

Hitting the send button with her thumb, she tossed the phone back onto her bedside table and turned the lamp off. JJ yanked her pillow down, hugging it with her body, and fell asleep faster than she had in awhile.

Linework - Linework - Linework

Jennifer Jareau's day passed by relatively uneventfully. She headed to the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Department at her usual six thirty, where she was met with a moderate amount of paperwork. Nothing catastrophic had happened in at least a week, so JJ enjoyed one of the few days where she wasn't obligated to handle a tricky media situation. She generally hated being stuck at her desk, preferring to be closer to the action, but today, she welcomed the slower pace.

About midway through her workday, her phone buzzed with a new text message. When she saw it was from Emily, her heartbeat quickened for a reason she couldn't explain, but it slowed again once she read it. _Got it, thanks, _the text message said. _Had a good time too._ JJ wasn't sure was she was expecting, but the nagging feeling that JJ had overshared and annoyed Emily last night returned.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, JJ slid her phone back into her pocket and continued with her paperwork.

It wasn't until a little past nine in the evening when she noticed she had another text message from the tattoo artist. Hesitantly, she opened it.

_Hey, I'm hanging out with Penelope and Derek at the Bullpen. Come join us?_

JJ stroked the side of her phone as she leaned back in her office chair. It would certainly be nice to see Emily again. She wasn't sure of the reason, but the tattoo artist kept making an appearance in her thoughts throughout the day.

At the same time, she still had some paperwork to finish.

Glancing from her phone, back to her desk, back to her phone again, she made her decision. _On my way,_ she tapped back to Emily and threw the case file back onto the stack.

Linework - Linework - Linework

Upon her arrival, it didn't take long to find Emily and her tattoo artist friends - the three of them were not exactly a quiet bunch. JJ made her way over to their table and spent a couple moments observing the three of them from a few feet away. She had no idea what they were all laughing about, but each of them seemed so happy to be in each other's company. Clearly, the chemistry they had at Body Art Unleashed still existed outside of work hours, and JJ felt a little envious. She got along well with all of her coworkers - JJ was sweet, caring, and supportive, all characteristics that the police officers in Jefferson Parish liked - but they weren't the sort of colleagues that got drinks together after work.

Before she had a chance to snap out of her reverie, Emily glanced up from the table and noticed her. "JJ!" she exclaimed excitedly - a little tipsy, perhaps? - before beckoning her over to the table. A smile spreading over her own face, JJ made her way over to the three of them. Emily had her arm outstretched, and JJ met her sideways hug warmly. The tattoo artist's arms tightened around her waist, and the blonde's heartbeat sped up a little bit.

"Hey, buttercup!" Penelope greeted with the same enthusiasm JJ had seen her exhibit the day before. "You came!" Morgan shot a wide grin her way and pulled back a chair, beckoning her to sit. Thanking him, JJ graciously took the offered seat between Morgan and Emily.

"Yeah, I was having a pretty wild night with my paperwork, but Emily pulled me away somehow..." JJ said with a laugh, glancing over at the brunette. Emily responded by playfully shoving JJ's shoulder, and JJ admired the youthful smirk that seemed permanently etched on her face.

"Ooh, paperwork. Sounds exciting," Morgan said with a chuckle.

"Very. The piles on my desk could be mistaken for Mt. Everest."

"Ohh-kay then, golden-haired ink virgin, you've succeeded in depressing me, so I am going to go grab my best buddies Jose and Cuervo, and they are going to help us fix this situation," Penelope said with a flourish, and she dashed away from the table before JJ could blink.

"Golden-haired...ink virgin?" JJ said with a puzzled expression, and Morgan and Emily exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

"You'll get used to her, babe," Emily assured her.

"Nicknames are her specialty," Morgan added. "They're always sexual, my favorite was that night last month when she called Emily a ha-"

"_That_ story, Derek," Emily interrupted pointedly, "does not need to be shared at this time. Or ever, really."

JJ turned to Morgan, who raised an eyebrow at her conspiratorially. _I'll tell you later,_ he mouthed. JJ winked back, and Emily rolled her eyes.

"I hate you guys," she muttered.

Emily's hand drifted to the back of JJ's chair, which didn't go unnoticed by JJ - but she certainly didn't mind. "I'm really glad you could join us," the dark haired tattoo artist said sincerely, and JJ smiled back, admiring the way that one side of the brunette's lips lifted lopsidedly when her lips parted.

"Me too. I was bored as hell, thanks for letting me tag along," JJ responded.

"The more, the merrier!" Penelope's voice sang out from behind her, and a couple tequila shots dropped in front of JJ before Pen took her own seat again.

"Oh, you are not playing around, are you?" JJ questioned with a laugh.

"Welcome to the BAU life, darlin'," Emily said, and when Penelope clinked her shot glass to JJ's, both women downed the tequila.

Over the course of the next few rounds, the group drifted from the table (where many inappropriate conversations took place that JJ couldn't quite follow, but enjoyed nonetheless), to the pool table (where Morgan not-so-subtly found himself checking out Penelope and JJ hopefully-more-subtly found herself observing the brunette a little more than was appropriate for a new friend), to the dart boards (where JJ played well but eventually let Derek win to avoid showing them all up), back to the table once again.

"Ooh! Ooh! But imagine her with a geometric neck tattoo!" Penelope said enthusiastically, scooting her chair closer to JJ and examining her neck with an intensity that left JJ in confused laughter.

"Emily? What is she doing?" JJ asked, keeping her head perfectly still as Penelope started scribbling on her napkin with a pen.

"Did you miss the debate they had about half an hour ago? The one about which type of neck tattoo would look best on you?" Emily replied with a giggle.

"A neck tattoo?! Yeah, I missed that one," JJ said, shaking her head.

"_Don't move!"_ ordered Morgan and Penelope simultaneously, and JJ stilled her head again with an exasperated smile.

Penelope finished scribbling and shoved her napkin in front of Morgan's face. "See? _See_? Look at that!"

Derek took the napkin from her and studied it for a few moments before tossing it back onto the table. "It's not bad, but Baby Girl, look at her jaw line. JJ, can you turn your head a li- yeah, perfect, hold it there. See, if you take a tribal approach-"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "Not every tattoo needs to be _tribal, _Derek-"

"Oh, but it sure doesn't hurt," Morgan said with exaggerated swagger, rolling up the short sleeves of his t-shirt to expose his muscular, tattooed biceps in full. "See, there are centuries of culture, centuries of history decorating these guns of mine-"

"Put the sleeves back down, Derek, no one caaaares," Emily drawled back, and Morgan obliged, straightening out his shirt again with a grin.

"Wait, okay, slow down for the - what did you call me again? 'Ink Virgin'?" JJ interrupted, her voice loud, free, and a little tequila-laced. She could feel Emily's eyes on her, and she glanced back at the brunette, shooting her a little smile before turning back to Morgan. "You guys have been throwing out terms like 'tribal' all night, which I'm assuming are types of tattoos."

"Oh, Baby Girl, tribal was the _only_ type of tattooing back in the day-"

"Derek, I swear to God, if I had a nickel every time you sounded like a giant douchebag-"

"Well, you don't, _Prentiss,_ otherwise you could buy out the BAU and make me shut up," Morgan shot back sassily. "But, since that hasn't happened yet..." He turned back to the blonde. "Tribal, Black and Grey, New School, American Traditional, Japanese Traditional, Watercolor, Photorealism - if you can think of it, there's probably a tattoo style based on it."

JJ nodded, recognizing the terms from the rapid, seemingly nonsensical conversations that had taken place over the past hour and a half. "So, the tattoos you have - they're all tribal?"

"Tribal to the bone, baby," Morgan confirmed. "Traditional Samoan artwork, if you want to get exact. The word 'tattoo' comes from the Samoan 'tatau.' You know any of the history?"

JJ shook her head, and Morgan smiled, a fire flaring up in his eyes as he began talking. He passionately told her about the significance of tattooing in ancient Samoan culture - how tattooing was a craft passed from father to son, how getting tattooed was painful and dangerous but served as a rite of passage signifying a boy's passage into manhood, how unfinished tattoos were considered a mark of shame - and the blonde listened with rapt attention. JJ was aware that tattooing practices held varying levels of importance in different cultures, but she had no idea of the severity it could hold.

Presumably, Penelope and Emily knew all about it, and they were both suddenly very quiet and focused on their phones. JJ tried to catch the dark-haired woman's eye, but she was staring intently at her phone screen with a slight frown on her face. A small feeling of worry passed through JJ, but she turned her attention back to Derek.

"And that's why I'm attached to this style of artwork. I consider it an honor to carry that remembrance. The European missionaries tried to forbid the Samoans from continuing their tattooing practices, calling them barbaric and savage and evil, but the Samoans refused to let it die," Derek explained, finishing up his little speech. He moved his drink aside and placed his forearms on the table, offering JJ a better view of his arms. The blonde scooted closer and peered intently at the ink. Now knowing some basics about the significance, his tattoos felt a lot more familiar to her eye than they did before.

JJ let her eyes sweep over the older man's artwork, happy to appreciate it up close. "They're beautiful. I really like how th-"

"_Dammit, Pen!" _Emily exclaimed, slamming her phone down on the table. JJ's eyes darted to Penelope, who was giggling profusely with a gleeful expression on her face. "I will fucking _strangle you, _I swear to God..."

Intrigued at the reason for Emily's sudden frustration, the blonde glanced over at the tattoo artist's phone, and she couldn't keep a giggle from escaping her.

"Online Scrabble? That's what you're angry about?" JJ said, still giggling.

"Pen's just getting lucky, I swear to fucking God..." Emily shot Garcia a death stare. "But I will get back at you if it's the _last_ thing I do..."

JJ watched as Emily flicked four tiles onto the letter panel. Her thumb hovered above the "Play!" button, and JJ burst out with a loud, "_No!"_

Emily turned to the blonde inquisitively. "No, see, 'lyre' has an 'r', and the 'l' is over a double letter tile-"

"That's the best you've got? Seriously?" JJ questioned haughtily, her tipsiness amplifying the sass she was feeling.

"It's a good word!" Emily protested. "Look, it'll get fifteen points-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the blonde had snatched the phone out of her hands, and she swiftly swiped "pyrrhic" onto the scoreboard. She hit send, and explained to Emily how she had not only gotten the 'c' over the double letter tile, but the 'p' was over the triple word tile.

"God _dammit!"_ Penelope erupted from the other side of the table, and JJ and Emily both smirked.

Penelope shot back a "villify", which JJ quickly defeated with a "quixotry." Riled up, Pen parried with a "hamper," but JJ attacked with a "syzygy."

"That is _not a word!"_ the bright-haired woman shrieked from across the table.

"Yes, yes it is," JJ replied snidely, laughing at Penelope's flustered appearance.

"This is _witchcraft! _Witchcraft, I tell you!" Pen exclaimed. "Emily, that cute petite blonde of yours isn't allowed back here, you hear me?!"

JJ giggled and turned to Emily, but she noticed how the tattoo artist's cheeks flushed red before she laughed it off. The blonde tried to meet the older woman's eyes, but Emily awkwardly fiddled with her empty beer bottle for a few seconds.

"So, you're really good at this, yeah?" Emily said to JJ, her cheeks twitching in a warm smile as the awkwardness passed and she met the blonde's eyes again.

"I'm not horrible at it, I guess," JJ said with a shrug.

"Syzygy, my ass..." Penelope grumbled. "You're almost as bad as Reid."

Morgan and Emily both let out deep laughs, and JJ glanced up, confused. "Who is Reid?"

"_Spencer_ Reid," Emily clarified, looking at the JJ. When the blonde's face remained blank, the smile dropped off Emily's face. "Oh my God, you really are an ink virgin..."

"Okay, well, _pop my cherry,_ Emily," JJ replied. _Oh, thank Jesus Christ we're at a bar and I can blame this on the alcohol. Get ahold of yourself, Jennifer,_ she thought as the rest of the table started laughing again.

"Spencer Reid," Emily said more forcefully. "Owner of Boy Genius Tattoos and Piercings, a friend of ours, and probably _the_ most famous New School tattooer in the States. New School fanatics fly in from across the country to get inked by him."

"New School tattoos?" JJ immediately asked. She had gotten over being embarrassed about her lack of knowledge several drinks ago.

"Pretty much the opposite of tribal," Garcia told her, grinning triumphantly at Morgan, who just narrowed her eyes back at her. Peeling off her sweater, Penelope scooted closer to JJ and presented her left upper arm.

"Most of my ink is New School, but this is one of the ones Spence did," Penelope told her, running her fingers over her shoulder and bicep. A big, colorful, cartoon-like octopus adorned her upper arm, and it was eating - what was that? Lines of computer coding?

"New School is a much more recent style, originating in the 70's or so," Garcia continued, smiling as she looked lovingly at her skin. "The outlining is thick, the colors are bright... It's all about being bold, and modern, and just... filled with energy!"

"So pretty much the tattoo style equivalent of you?" remarked JJ, and both Emily and Morgan smiled.

"I'd like to think so," Garcia said with a bright grin before turning her attention back to the tattoo. "Anyway, this is Spence's work, and while it's impossible to pick a favorite tattoo, this is the one I'd pick if I had to."

JJ peered closer and hesitantly ran a fingertip down Garcia's skin. "This is incredible," she murmured. "It just looks so three dimensional... I had no idea you could even do that with a tattoo!"

"Well, most people can't," Garcia told her. "Get close? Sure, but no one can replicate Spencer Reid's work. But that's because tattoo artists work with their hands and eyes, and Spence works with algorithms."

"...Algorithms...?"

"Oh yes, you heard me right. This guy's a genius - a real one, hence his shop being named Boy Genius - and he can create craziness you couldn't even _dream _of with that mathematical head of his. He created algorithms and equations that help him design tattoos with depth and brightness and three-dimensionality that no one else on this planet has been able to top."

"Wow, that's... incredible," JJ said with disbelief. "It really looks like the octopus could walk right off of your arm right now... Wait, okay, but what is it eating? Is that computer coding?"

Penelope's face broke into a wider grin, if such a thing was even possible, and she glanced at Morgan and Emily before continuing. "Oh yes! Lines upon lines upon lines of glorious, fabulous, incredibly sexy coding. Inking is my latest love, but coding - oh boy, she's been the one true love of my life for a very long time."

"That's awesome! Coding is quite the art form, yeah?"

Pen's grin turned more mischievous. "Yes... Oh yes..."

JJ sat back, having accepted that this crazy bunch had thousands of stories she had no idea about.

"Okay. I'll ask. What's the story behind this particular bit of coding," JJ stated more than asked.

"_Well!_ If you insist," Garcia responded enthusiastically. "This chunk of coding was the start of the script I wrote that put me on an FBI watch list."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "You're kidding."

"No! No, I'm not!" Penelope replied, indignant at JJ's doubt. "You're in law enforcement, aren't you? Look up the FBI's watch list for potential cyber terrorists! I'm on that list and I earned my place!"

"I work for a tiny Louisiana sheriff's office, Penelope, not the FBI," JJ said with a laugh.

"Well, just hack into the FBI's database and look for yourself! Oh wait, you can't do that," Penelope said smugly. "Okay, well, you want proof? I'll hack into your email. I'll hack into all your files! Here, I have my laptop, I can do it r-"

"_Don't,_" Emily ordered, reaching across the table to grab Garcia's hand. "No hacking into my friends's files, Pen. We've talked about this."

"But Emily," Penelope whined, her pout resembling a five year old's. "JJ doesn't believe that I'm on the FBI's watch list."

"It's proclamations like that, sweetheart, that make airport security a bitch to get through with you," Emily said, patting her hand lovingly.

Emily and Penelope continued to bicker, with Derek chiming in now and again, and JJ sat back in her seat, enjoying the display. Her cheeks burned from smiling so much, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. She felt... good. Happy. _Alive_.

After another forty-five minutes of playful banter, hard-to-follow stories, and the three tattoo artists explaining the history behind various tattoo styles to the 'virgin,' the four of them were ready to call it a night.

Filing out of the bar, the group spent a couple more minutes chatting outside in the soft New Orleans air before parting ways.

Derek gave JJ a smile and a fist-bump, and Garcia gave her a hug so tight that the blonde stopped breathing for a moment. JJ returned the gestures with equal warmth, grateful that they had accepted her with open arms and knowing she would find herself laughing over their antics for days. Finally, Derek and Garcia had ambled away, and just JJ and Emily were left outside the bar.

Emily shifted back from one foot to the other with timidness JJ had never seen from the tattoo artist before. She pushed a lock of blue-streaked-brown hair back behind her ear and looked at the blonde.

"Thank you for hanging out with us tonight," Emily said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Those two take a little getting used to - all three of us, actually - but they adore you. And it was really fun getting to spend some time with you."

JJ beamed back at the older woman before hugging her. Emily wrapped her arms around the blonde in response, and they held each other close for a few long moments. "I had a great time, Em," JJ said sincerely, enjoying the feeling of Emily's body wrapped around hers. "Thank you so much."

Emily didn't respond verbally, instead pulling her a little tighter and letting her eyelids flutter shut. JJ's hair was so soft against her cheek, and knowing that the previously icy blonde had felt comfortable enough to let loose with the BAU artists warmed something deep inside of her. She let her hand run lightly down the smaller woman's back before finally letting go.

"I'm gonna start on your sketch soon, y'know," Emily told her with a lopsided grin. "So you just let me know when you're ready to get to work, okay?"

"I'm ready to roll whenever you are," JJ said with a smile. She turned to leave, but then paused, facing Emily again. "Oh, and Em?"

Emily looked back at her. "Yeah?"

"My online scrabble username is 'cheetobreath.' Add me."

Linework - Linework - Linework

JJ spent the next few days texting the tattoo artist sporadically and engaging in an ongoing game of online scrabble. It came as no surprise that JJ crushed her every time, but they both enjoyed the experience and the accompanying taunts. Emily doubted the legitimacy of half the words JJ played, but slowly, she found her own gameplay improving.

Once, JJ stopped by the BAU on her way home from work, and she was delighted that the three artists welcomed her warmly. The three of them had seemed to genuinely like her at the bar, but JJ had wondered if their friendliness was just a result of alcohol consumption; relief washed over the blonde when she saw that wasn't true.

The shop's closing time was approaching rapidly, and this time, Morgan was the only one working in the back.

After a couple moments of quiet observation, JJ leaned over to Emily and whispered into her ear, "That's American traditional, right?"

Emily turned to her, eyes and smile sparkling, and nodded proudly. "Look at you, Jayj!" JJ's stomach flipped a little at the use of her nickname again; she could get used to that.

Once Morgan's client was finished up, the artists left the shop open for a half-hour longer, lost in conversation and playful banter with JJ.

"Are you free on Saturday, cutie?" Penelope asked her as the four of them parted ways.

"I should be," JJ replied.

"Good. Keep it that way, we're hitting up that karaoke bar on Magazine St. and you're coming!"

JJ laughed at Penelope's bossy tone, and Emily shook her head. "Looks like you don't have a choice, darlin'."

"Wouldn't dream of saying no," the blonde told Emily. "There is no way I'd pass up the opportunity to see Emily Prentiss, Goddess of Linework letting it loose on stage..."

"Oh, this is such a bad idea," the dark-haired artist called out, and with one last shared laugh, they all parted paths.

Linework - Linework - Linework

At 11pm the next day, JJ was about to slide into bed and go to sleep when she heard her phone ping. Swiping open the screen, she saw Emily had played a move in their scrabble game. 'COFFEE,' the tiles read.

JJ quickly flicked 'paradox' onto the board, chuckling smugly as the 'x' fell onto the triple letter tile, and opened her text message conversation with Emily a couple seconds after.

_Hey, good job with 'coffee'!_ she typed into the screen. _I didn't know you knew any two syllable words!_

Only a few seconds passed before Emily's reply popped up. _Ha, ha, you're hilarious,_ the message read. _But I'll have you know, I was cleverly and charmingly asking you if you wanted to grab coffee. I have a sketch done._

JJ smiled down at her phone screen. The older woman was definitely charming. _Coffee? At 11pm?_

_Of course,_ came Emily's quick response. _Don't tell me you're one of those assholes who refuses to drink coffee after 4pm. _

_I'm more of a tea drinker once the sun has set, it's true,_ JJ typed back. _There are so many great blends. I could make a tea drinker out of anyone - even you, Prentiss._

_Impossible. But fine. Would you care to join me while I drink a delicious caffeinated beverage, and you can sit across the table, judge my choice, and reflect on how great life is as an herbal-obsessed yogi?_

_The female form of 'yogi' is 'yogini,' by the way,_ JJ typed. _But I'd love to... How did you know I do yoga?_

_Read over your past few texts to me, darling. It's pretty obvious you're one of _them_._

A couple seconds later, Emily sent another text. _Is the coffee and tea house on the corner of Carrollton and Veterans okay?_

_Perfect,_ JJ replied. _On my way._

Linework - Linework - Linework

When JJ arrived, the coffee shop was almost empty except for Emily in one corner and a couple off on the opposite wall. She ordered a chai, watching the tattoo artist adding some lines here and there in her large sketch book, and smiled. Emily's hair was pulled back in its typical messy ponytail, the small blue streak making the already beautiful woman that much more striking, and a frayed Guns N' Roses shirt hung loosely from her torso. Her eye caught on the woman's right upper arm, and though she didn't have a good vantage point, she admired what appeared to be a snake wrapping up from just above her elbow, onto her shoulder, and disappearing under her shirt.

"Ma'am?" the barista prompted, and JJ turned back around and took the chai from him. "Thank you," she said with a nod and then headed towards Emily's corner.

"Hey, Em," the blonde greeted as she sat down on the other side of the small table. The brunette's eyes twinkled as they met hers; JJ loved that.

"Hey yourself," the brunette replied and beckoned towards the tea. "Special _Yogini_ Blend of Herbs and Boring Uncaffeination?"

"Just a chai, actually. But good guess."

JJ and Emily chatted for a little bit, catching up on the past day. Mostly, Emily was just trying to figure out if JJ had a Dictionary of Strange Words That Will Never Be Useful in Daily Conversation installed in her head, and JJ asked Emily about Penelope's stories from the previous week.

"Seriously, though," JJ had questioned, determined to get a straight answer. "She isn't actually on a watch list, is she?"

Emily laughed, and JJ knew she would be no closer to uncovering the truth. "The less you look into it, the better off you'll be, dear."

"Is being cryptic a requirement to get your tattooing license?" JJ asked with an eyebrow raise.

"Yes. Yes it is. But, speaking of tattoos..." Emily flipped open the large sketchpad on the table and turned it upside down for JJ to take.

JJ did, and as her eyes swept over the sketch, her lips parted in disbelief.

The piece was absolutely gorgeous. Emily had drawn a couple marks of body outlining around the edges to indicate the tattoo's scale and placement relative to her torso, and as she took in the piece, she understood why Emily's client had said no one in town could do better linework than she did. Each detail JJ mentioned over a week ago, Emily had remembered and included in the sketch with astonishing grace.

She first drew her attention to the bottom, near where Emily had indicated her hipbone would be, and admired the gorgeous way that the lower half of the tree trunk seamlessly morphed into chains, and then into ropes, frayed and free at the end. The lines were deliberate, but fleetingly elegant in their execution. The frayed ends of the rope spilled effortlessly down where the hipbone would be and faded into nothingness. Emily had chosen a variety of brown tones - JJ couldn't help but think of the artist's eyes for a moment - and her impeccable shading helped convey the motion of the work.

Then, she traced the trunk upwards, where it splayed out in lively green foliage, where the most beautifully drawn blackbird she had ever seen stood vigilantly in the nook of the branches. It was soft, and tenderly shaded, and almost haunted, but the linework conveyed an underlying strength JJ didn't know was possible to create with a pen. Looking into the blackbird's eyes, she felt like she was looking into herself.

JJ's eyes were starting to flood with tears as she traced the tree branches up to beneath the drawn body's breast and along the top of the rib cage. Woven into the delicate branches were the phases of the moon, a careful adornment and elegant contrast to the soft foliage of the tree branches, and JJ brought her finger to the paper, tracing the progression of the moon. The lines held a sort of reverence in them.

Finally, her eye drifted to the bird's egg and nest to the bottom right of the blackbird. One small tear spilled over her bottom eyelid as she brought her finger to the egg. The nest was soft, warm, and safe, and the egg was delicately shaded with light green tones.

Emily had been watching JJ silently, letting her have a little privacy to observe the sketch, but trying to read the blonde's body movements with rapt attention. She noted the initial shock of seeing the detail of the sketch, the flicker of awe as JJ saw her mind's creation carved into paper, and the moment when her gorgeous blue eyes began to water up.

She glanced down at the sketch, watching the way JJ's finger tenderly - and somberly, perhaps? - traced over the little egg and nest.

"Hey," Emily said softly, coaxing JJ out of her reverie and causing the blonde to look up at her. JJ quickly blinked the tears out of her eyes, and Emily saw the way the blonde put her mask back on. "Is it okay? The sketch?"

JJ let out a breath before smiling, though her eyes still seemed distant. "It's... it's perfect, Em. I can't put my thoughts into words. But it's incredible. Exactly what I had hoped for."

Emily nodded, happy that her work had met JJ's criteria, but concern still stuck in the pit of her stomach. "What changes do you want me to make? It's still a sketch, so we can take as much time as you'd like to finalize everything."

The blonde swept her eyes over the piece a couple times before bringing her finger back to the egg and tapping it. "Just this. Can you make it light pink? I should've specified."

"Yes, of course," Emily said with a nod, and reached into her bag for her eraser and set of colored pencils. Less than a minute later, Emily had erased the green and re-shaded the egg with a delicate pink, and JJ nodded her approval.

"This is perfect. This is everything I was hoping for."

Emily smiled at her, but JJ's eyes had dropped back down to the table. When the blonde was finished observing the sketch one last time, Emily closed up the sketchpad and put it safely back into her bag. She observed the younger woman, noting how her walls were back up.

"Jayj?" Emily tested, and the blonde's eyes met hers. "You definitely don't have to if you don't want to. But are you still willing to swap stories? One piece of your sketch for one tattoo of mine?"

JJ wiped her eye again once more before nodding in confirmation.

"You don't need to feel pressured to. I understand better than most how personal a tattoo's story can be."

"It's okay, Em," JJ assured her. "I trust you. I'd trust you with the whole story, I just... I enjoy our new friendship, and I don't want to dump everything on you. That's not fair to you."

"Jennifer," Emily said and touched her hand. Her full first name felt comfortable coming from her lips. "I told you, I'm your ink therapist. There's nothing you could tell me that is too overwhelming for me to hear."

JJ studied the artist's chocolate brown eyes for several moments before accepting Emily's sincerity. "Which part of the sketch do you want to know about?"

Emily took a sip of her coffee before speaking. "The bird's egg."

The blonde nodded before picking up her own beverage. She knew she visibly lost it a little bit with that part. "The bird's egg... Yeah, okay." JJ took another sip before putting her tea back on the table. "The egg represents a lot of things. New birth, future potential, but most importantly, it represents my son."

The tattoo artist was caught by surprise. "I didn't know you had a son, JJ."

JJ laughed mirthlessly with a shake of her head. "I don't, Em."

Emily examined the other woman carefully, trying to figure out what JJ was telling her. "Sweetheart, I don't understand..."

"I was pregnant," JJ spilled out, her features contorting in pain. The tears she had managed to blink away came back in full force, and JJ couldn't stop them from trailing down her cheeks. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

The dark-haired woman breathed out sharply, feeling like the wind got knocked out of her.

'I..." JJ continued, taking another breath and searching for something other than Emily's face to focus on. She was aware they were still in public; they were the only patrons in the coffee house at the moment, but this still wasn't an acceptable environment to fall apart in. "I was with him for three years, I told you that, right?"

Emily nodded carefully. "You did."

"It wasn't easy. We were okay for six months - that's when I fell for him, but after that?" JJ shook her head. "He's a detective. Not with the Jefferson Parish Sheriff's Office, but in the parish over. And Will... his father - his father died during Hurricane Katrina, and everyone had assumed that was the reason, but Will got the idea that it was something deeper. His father was a detective too, see, and there was an unsolved case Will thought was related. And he just... became obsessed with it. And everything changed. He started taking all of his anger out on me. He wasn't careful, especially when he was drunk, and he didn't bother hitting me where others wouldn't see. I tried to tell my friends, my family, everyone that it was just clumsiness, but everyone's heard that excuse, y'know? You can get away with it the first time, but you can't do it for two and a half years."

Emily kept her hand firmly on JJ's, and the blonde squeezed the artist's hand like a lifeline. She had to get it out now, or she wouldn't be able to continue.

"My friends were supportive at first, but there's only so long they can be there for you. They urged me to get out of the relationship, but I couldn't. I refused. I defended him, and eventually, they distanced themselves. I don't blame them for a second. I had to distance myself from who I became, too."

"It wasn't your fault," Emily told her adamantly. "None of this. You hear me? Do not blame yourself."

JJ shook her head sadly. "Maybe not, but I could have made different choices. I wish I had been able to escape from him for my family, or for my friends, or for myself. But I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Sweetheart-"

"I got pregnant, Em," JJ explained, nearly choking on the words as they came out of her. "I stopped sleeping with Will, voluntarily at least. But when he was drunk... it didn't matter. I didn't matter. He'd just force me down onto the bed, and tell me to deal it. 'This is what women are for, Jen,' he'd yell."

At this point, Emily's own eyes began tearing up. She knew what that felt like more than JJ knew. And she wished she had some way, any way, to take this pain away from her.

"Things happen," JJ choked out with a humorless laugh. "One day, after a couple weeks of feeling nauseous and dizzy and missing a period, I took a pregnancy test. Five, actually. And that's when I found out."

The blonde pulled her hand away from Emily's, instead wrapping them around her tea. "I cried when I found out. I cried for days. But then I started to feel happy, y'know? I've always wanted kids. I've dreamed of being a mother for awhile. And soon, I'd have a little baby. His name was going to be Henry. And I wouldn't let Will be the father - I never told him about the pregnancy, and I was planning my escape." Her eyes dropped again. "But I... I didn't do it in time."

"I'm so, so, sorry..."

JJ looked off into the distance again. "When I found myself at the bottom of his staircase, I knew what had happened. I knew I lost him. The visit to the hospital only confirmed what I had already felt." Taking a few deep breaths to steady herself again, she ran her thumb quickly under both of her eyelids to wipe away the residual tears. "And that's when I left him. If I had gotten myself to do it earlier, he wouldn't have - I'd still have a little b-..." Another deep breath. "I lost him. And I will never get him back. But I love him, even if I can't meet him, and the bird's egg is a testament to the life he never got. And it reminds me I have to push myself to keep moving forward anyway. Henry will never be born, but the future is still ahead of me. And I refuse to make the same mistakes. The mistakes that cost me my son."

Emily let her eyes flutter closed, trying to swallow the tears back down. She had no right to cry - JJ was sharing her trauma with her, what right did she have to be losing control of her own emotions? - but when she opened her eyes again, she looked at JJ with a new kind of love. JJ saw it, too. There was pity swirling around in Emily's dark brown eyes, but more importantly, there was acceptance. There was support. And there was admiration, a sense of awe that JJ had gone through those three years and made it out the other side.

JJ's breathing had steadied, and her voice no longer wavered. She looked into Emily's eyes firmly. "The shade of pink I asked you to color the egg? That would have been his birthstone color."

Emily let a long, shaky breath out.

"Did I share too much?"

"No, not at all," Emily told her firmly. "Honestly, I'm honored you shared this with me. You've been through hell and back, Jayj, and however hard I wish you haven't gone through as much as you have, the fact that you survived all of this is nothing short of incredible. JJ, look at me, please." The blonde raised her eyes and met her own. "You are incredible. You have a strength that very few people possess, and I'm truly honored that I get to call you my friend."

JJ blinked back tears. "Yeah, well, you have to learn better scrabble words from someone, now don't you?" she said with a slightly choked laugh, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. Emily beamed a smile back at her. "But really, Em. Thank you. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I hope you know just how much I appreciate you. Both for listening to me - for helping me process my own emotions - but for not letting it tarnish the way you look at me. You treat me like a normal friend. The people in my life who know tend to walk on eggshells around me. Like I'm this horrible ghost of a person because I spent three years with Will. You? You laugh with me, you drink with me, you banter with me. Thank you for that."

"I'm just thrilled you put up with my antics," Emily said with a laugh. "Words can't express how much I enjoy having you around. And I applaud you for managing not to punch me and Derek and Pen all in the face."

"There's nothing to 'put up with,' you three are the best," JJ told her, smiling as she thought of the artists together. "Maybe I should drop this whole media liaison thing and learn how to tattoo..."

"If you ever want to learn, JJ, you're welcome to be my apprentice," Emily replied. "Pen's been doing this for a few years and is basically on her own now. Which means Derek and I have no one to train."

"I'll keep that in mind," JJ told her jokingly. "But okay... Is it my turn to ask you about one of your tattoos?"

"I believe it is," Emily said with a grin. "Any one you want. Sorry they're not all visible."

"It's okay, I think the shop owner will kick us out if I ask you to strip down," JJ teased. Emily's cheeks blushed a little bit. "Let's see... The snake on your upper arm. Can I look at it?"

Emily nodded and scooted her chair from across the table to the spot adjacent to JJ. She dropped her shirt strap and bra strap - JJ tried not to linger too long on the bare expanse of skin from her shoulder to the nape of her neck - and let JJ observe as much of the tattoo as she could.

JJ observed the tattoo, recognizing that the snake looked kind of New School, very similar to Penelope's but a little less boisterous and cartoonish. The snake head began right above her elbow, its expression sassy and bold. A cigarette hung lazily from the snake's toothy mouth, and a military-style dark blue beret sat on its head, adorned with a patch on the front that read "defensor fortis." The snake wrapped around her arm several times before trailing along the underside of her collarbone. The tail of the snake ended near Emily's sternum, resting on the inside of her breast, and coiled around a small dagger.

"I love it. New Age, right?" JJ asked.

"Nailin' it, blondie," Emily said with a grin. "Alright, anyway: the story. I don't think I've told you that I spent a little time in the military, have I?"

"No," JJ replied with surprise. "How long were you in it for? I had no idea."

"Four years in the United States Air Force. One contract," she explained. "It was never something I wanted as a career, but I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life before I began tattooing. I come from a very political family, so really, I wanted to escape, do something that mattered for a little bit, and figure out my own path after."

Emily brought her hand up to her arm and tapped the head of the snake. "'Defensor fortis' means 'defender of the force.' That's the Security Forces motto. Was a Senior Airman by the time my contract finished and I decided to get out."

"That's great - Security Forces, sounds pretty exciting. Did you deploy?"

Emily nodded. "Just one deployment. Iraq, during the Gulf War. And I thought SF would be exciting, which is why I signed up for it, but really, it's a pretty boring job when you're stateside. I mean, SF exists to keep the base guarded, but who in their right mind would try to attack a fortified Air Force Base?"

JJ chuckled, enjoying the sass in the tattoo artist's voice. "Guess I've never thought about it that way."

"Deployments are different, of course - tons of crazy shit happens overseas - but the work I did stateside is a big reason I drew up this snake the way I did." Emily rotated her arm back and forth, tracing the spiral of the snake up her arm. "We had this thing that we called the 99% to 1% rule. You spend 99% of your time coiled and ready to strike while absolutely _nothing_ is going on. And you do it for that 1% of the time when something bad happens, and you are desperately needed."

"May I?" JJ asked, hovering her hand over Emily's arm, and when Emily nodded her consent, the younger woman traced her thumb tenderly down the artwork on her arm. Emily held her breath, subconsciously trying to distract herself from the soft scent of the blonde's shampoo.

"The beret, that's part of the Security Forces uniform?"

Emily nodded. "Many different specialty units across the branches wear similar berets, but this one is ours."

"And the cigarette? What's the significance there?" JJ asked curiously.

Emily smiled and shrugged, the piece shifting slightly with her movement. "There isn't any. I just thought the cigarette looked cool."

JJ sat back in her seat, satisfied. Emily pulled her strap back up, assuming story time was over, but the blonde turned her attention back to the tattoo.

"And the dagger? Is that decoration too?"

Emily froze. She purposely hadn't mentioned it, and she wasn't expecting JJ to ask about it on her own. She studied JJ's eyes carefully, and JJ could tell she had stumbled into darker territory.

"I'm - I'm sorry, you don't have to-"

"No, no, it's okay," Emily said. "I was just startled. You've shared much more than this with me, and I trust you. I trust you a lot."

JJ nodded slowly, still feeling guilty that she had asked about something Emily hadn't offered up. "I hope you don't feel obligated to tell me. Just because I've spilled my guts to you - that doesn't mean you need to do the same."

"I know. But I'm willing to share the more personal ones, I just... I don't want to dampen your mood anymore than it already is."

"I'm okay," the blonde insisted quietly, offering the older woman a supportive smile. "I'd like to hear, if you're willing."

Emily played with the handle of her coffee mug; it was her turn for contemplation - to find the words to explain a piece of herself. Instead of leading with words, she dropped her shirt strap again and leaned closer to the blonde.

"You see this?" she asked JJ, looking into her eyes as her finger circled around the tiny dagger on her chest. "Look carefully." JJ peered a bit closer, trying to keep her face a respectful distance from the woman's chest, but could make out some distortion in the dagger.

"The image isn't clear," the blonde offered, not seeing anything else wrong with it. "It looks less sharp than the rest of it."

Emily nodded. "Run your finger over it."

Timidly, JJ reached forward with her hand, and with a coaxing nod from Emily, she ran her finger over the dagger.

"It's bumpy," she remarked. "This is scar tissue, isn't it?"

"Bingo," replied Emily sadly, and she tried her best to maintain eye contact with the blonde, though it was hard to. She took a couple breaths, wondering where to start. "When I deployed to Iraq, it was a hard time to be a woman in the military. Don't get me wrong, it's still hard today, but it was worse then. Especially in a field like Security Forces, where all the guys want to prove how 'masculine' they are. Having a woman do a hands-on job like that makes a lot of guys uncomfortable."

JJ nodded, thinking of the gender relations she had witnessed at her own workplace. The female detectives around her had to work twice as hard as the men, yet very rarely had their own achievements attributed to themselves.

"My direct supervisor's name was Doyle. Staff Sergeant Doyle. He didn't seem to be too bad at first, but it was clear how he viewed women. Allowing women into the military was the government's biggest mistake, if you asked him, and he hated the women in his troops. All of his subordinates knew Doyle was mixed up in some bad shit - drugs, most likely - but somehow, OSI never investigated him."

The blonde nodded sadly. In the midst of her own emotions, she had noticed a little glint appear in Em's eyes when she mentioned Will's sexual abuse, and she could sense where this was going.

"Doyle hated me less, though. Hit on me all the time - it made me uncomfortable, but I was just happy he wasn't treating me as badly as he treated the other women." Emily sighed again and rubbed her neck with her hand. "Anyway, long story short, deployments get lonely. There was this girl, Senior Airman Clemmons - Beth, she was the same rank as me - and, I don't know, we flirted a lot and one thing led to another, and we started seeing each other."

Emily studied JJ's face carefully; JJ didn't strike her as the unaccepting type, but still, they were in southern Louisiana. Nothing changed about the blonde's face, so Emily continued, a little relieved. Emily had no way of knowing that JJ's heart quickened a bit or that JJ gulped self-consciously when Emily's eyes finally left hers.

"Anyway, it was dumb, and it was unprofessional, but Beth and I found comfort in each other. Which made the first half of the deployment a little less shitty."

The tattoo artist glanced around the coffee shop again. She was glad they were the only two occupying the quiet space. "I guess we weren't very discreet, because Doyle found out, and he wasn't happy. He though I was his or something, and the fact that I don't fuck men bruised his ego. So he decided to take it out on me one night. Most of our unit was on patrol, so when he called me into his makeshift office, there was no one to help."

"I'm sorry," JJ whispered, reaching out across the table like Emily had earlier, but Emily kept talking, her voice monotone.

"He stripped my uniform off, and I was able to grab my Bowie knife from my belt just in time. But his combat training had surpassed mine, and when I tried to bring it up to his body, he twisted my wrist and pushed down. He didn't push hard, but the tip of the blade cut me pretty bad, and that's how I got the scar. Doyle did what he did and left."

A few moments of silence passed before JJ spoke. "Was he punished for what he did? Did you tell anyone?"

Emily nodded, and JJ sighed out a little bit in relief. "It was tough, but I reported Doyle to the officer in command, First Lieutenant Hotchner. Hotch - that's what he let us call him, which annoyed Captain Strauss, his own boss. It was a tough battle, because Staff Sergeant Doyle was considered the 'prodigy' of Strauss, but eventually, Hotch got it taken up the chain of command."

JJ nodded, but when Emily's eyes remained distant, she sensed there was more.

"I hope you understand that overall, I loved my time in the military. I met some of the most incredible people in the world serving, and I have an enormous respect for anyone who makes the choice to enter. But sometimes things slip through the cracks, and Doyle was one of them. When they transferred him from one set of hands to the other, he escaped, and as far as I know, no one has found him since."

The blonde's blood ran cold, and she looked into Emily's eyes, seeing a despair that was masked with layers and layers of confidence.

"I doubt he'll come after me. Forensics have gotten better, and if someone takes me out, Doyle is the first person law enforcement will expect. Plus, it's been over a decade, and nothing has happened yet. But it took me awhile to feel comfortable. And there are moments, even after a dozen years, when I feel terrified." Emily turned to JJ. "I have no idea what you've been through. Hopefully I will never know the level of despair you felt for three years, and will most likely continue to feel for a long time. But I do know a little bit of what you felt and what you now feel. So please believe me when I tell you that I will always be here to listen, no matter what."

JJ's hands were lightly touching the tattoo artist's forearms now, and she squeezed them supportively. "I'm sorry you went through that. But I appreciate you sharing that with me."

Emily smiled, most of the darkness dissipating from her face. Not quite all of it, though. "If he ever tries to find me, he'll have a tattoo machine firmly in his eye socket. But there you have it, that's the story of the dagger. I initially got it since it was the right shape to hide the scar tissue, but I really like it now. It sucked, but it strengthened me... armed me. I'm not in Security Forces anymore, but God knows I'm still coiled."

Together, the pair sat in comfortable silence for a little while. JJ appreciated how the two could let loose and have a ridiculous time as the Bullpen, but also were able to trust each other the darkest corners of their souls. She studied Emily's face and admired the strength she saw in it. Emily had experienced trauma, but she didn't let it consume her. JJ imagined it had taken her a while to overcome it, but Emily's face struck hope in JJ's chest. The dark-haired woman got hurt, but that didn't stop her from being who she was today - a passionate, friendly, charming, and _happy_ woman living a life she loved. JJ was determined to do the same.

Linework - Linework - Linework

"It's my diary. Every mark I've had drawn on my skin connects me to where and who I've been - so I never forget who I am and how I got here. And you know what the real beauty of it is? Nobody can take it away." - Charles de Lint, _Someplace to be Flying_

Author's Note: I didn't mean for that to be 10k words long, but it just kind of happened... Thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you can! The storyline is flexible, so if there's something in particular you'd like to see, just let me know. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Linework

Rating: T, with mentions of M-rated themes

Pairing: JJ/Emily

A/N: Sorry to make you all wait multiple weeks for the third installment! Life got really busy, so I had to put Linework on the back burner. I hope the 12,000+ word update makes up for it. As usual, a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I'm glad you are enjoying the story, and I hope to keep meeting your expectations!

TW: Trigger warnings for the same topics as the first two chapters. Nothing is explicitly discussed in detail, but there are references.

Linework: Chapter 3

"A tattoo is a true poetic creation, and is always more than meets the eye. As a tattoo is grounded on living skin, so its essence emotes a poignancy unique to the mortal human condition." - V. Vale

The idea of permanence scares the shit out of people.

It's the first thing anyone ever asks about when a person's tattoos comes into the discussion. "It looks nice now," they'll say. "But what will you think in thirty years? What happens when you have grandchildren? Dear God, what will you _do_ when your _skin sags_?"

They'll ask those questions as if there's something so mighty and pure about saggy skin without ink. As if you'll have grandchildren. As if you'll even still be alive in thirty years.

But no one lives forever, no future is guaranteed, and skin, no matter how moisturized and pampered and cleansed, will never make it more than a couple decades without showing the inevitable signs of age's hardships. People accept that without question, but marking a body with ink? Physical commitment to an idea or moment or belief? Somehow, the general public is much more afraid of that concept.

Jennifer Jareau stood in front of her bathroom mirror in jeans and a simple black bra, transfixed by her own image. She let her hands trace over the skin of her abdomen, bare and un-inked for the last morning of her life. Fingertips brushed from hipbone to rib cage to hipbone again, and she let her eyelids flutter shut.

JJ thought she would be nervous the morning of her first tattooing appointment. Once that machine touched her skin, there would be no going back. She would be marked for the rest of her life, however long or short that time span would be, and she took it as a given that she'd experience at least a few second thoughts about her decision.

But as she stood in front of her own reflection, taking in the sight of her un-inked skin for the last time, there was not a single shred of hesitation in her body. JJ had made a lot of bad decisions in her life, but this - this definitely wasn't one of them.

"Tattoos are for sailors, whores, and criminals," her mother had always told her while growing up in East Allegheny. "It's just not what nice folk do." JJ had accepted her parents' attitude without question; she was ten, what else would she think?

The narrative around her certainly seemed to support it. There were butterfly tramp stamps on girls who had "reputations," and gang signs on the boys that all the good girls stayed away from but secretly wanted, and patriotic sleeves on older men with gray beards who told war stories that were embellished beyond recognition.

But that's not why "nice folk" don't sport ink, JJ had come to realize, undoubtedly with the aid of Emily and Penelope and Derek. "Nice folk" don't get tattoos because a person's biggest freedom is the ability to run away and start completely anew - at any time, in any place. Beliefs, personal connections, hardships, and dreams can be washed away or masked in a heartbeat.

Yet the second you mark your skin in honor of anything, you give it a more permanent importance. You are committed. You cannot forget. And you cannot run, because you chose to carry it with you always.

JJ opened her eyes again and looked herself in the eye, steely blue meeting steely blue. She gave up three years of her life to Will, and she let him beat her beyond recognition, and she let him take a part of herself that she would never get back, and she let him kill her unborn son.

But more important than any of it was the fact that she made it through alive - bloody and beaten and broken, but still breathing.

A lot of pain punctuated the last three years of her life, and there were certain moments she couldn't think of without a wave of pain crashing stormily over her chest, but to deny their existence would be to deny her own status as a survivor.

Life isn't permanent and pure skin isn't forever, but as long as Jennifer Jareau was walking the earth, she would make damn sure that she was standing tall and ready to fight. Come hell or high water, JJ was ready for anything, for she had nothing else to fear.

The blackbird would be her promise.

Linework – Linework – Linework

JJ arrived at Body Art Unleashed exactly five minutes before noon and was happy to see the lights in the building were already on. She had booked the first appointment with Emily for the day.

As was usual now, JJ was met with a warm and ridiculously tight hug before she had set even three steps inside the building. How Penelope managed to get from behind the desk to the door's threshold so quickly, JJ didn't know, but she had learned to stop questioning her mysteries awhile ago.

"JJ!" she heard from the direction of the back room, and the blonde instinctively smiled before turning around.

"Hey, Em," JJ greeted, taking in the darker woman's eyes as she approached. Her hair was tied back in her usual messy ponytail, and she found herself tracing the streak of bright blue for a little longer than usual.

"Hey there, darlin'," Emily said before pulling the smaller woman into a tight hug. JJ tightened her grip, letting herself relax into Emily's firm embrace.

It must have lasted a little bit too long, because Penelope chimed in with a, "Prentiss, you're supposed to tattoo her with a needle, not a hug," and Emily released her, shooting a raised eyebrow towards the tattooist-turned computer hacker. Pen just shrugged.

"So," Emily said, taking a step back and clearing her throat. Her hands slipped into the pockets of her jeans, and JJ caught herself tracing her artwork-covered arms upward. "You ready to get started?"

Linework – Linework – Linework

JJ sat in a stool in the corner and happily observed Emily as she bustled around the back room. At this point, she felt pretty comfortable with what Emily was doing – the sheets of thin paper she was preparing were the tattoo stencils, the piece of minimalist furniture she was banging into place was where JJ would lie down, the plastic gloves and tubing she was pulling out were for her hands and tattoo machine. The older woman filled little plastic cups with varying hues of indelible ink while humming to herself, and JJ smiled slightly. Emily's sporadic humming, so quiet and casual that JJ wasn't sure Em even realized she was doing it, was the blonde woman's favorite little habit of hers. Emily's brow always furrowed when she did it, and JJ could see the focus sharpen just a little bit more in her eyes.

When Emily had her workplace in order, she smiled at JJ and beckoned for her to come over.

"Mind taking your shirt off?" Emily asked softly. Her voice faltered slightly, but JJ saved Emily any teasing and casually pulled her tank top off.

It wasn't until the cold air hit her abdomen that JJ remembered what her skin looked like. She instantly flicked her eyes downward, lingering a second on the residual bruises before glancing nervously at Emily's face.

Emily had paused, her gaze glued to the bruised patterns lightly tracing her ribs and stomach, and JJ could see something in her eyes harden with anger. She suddenly felt herself tearing up; how long had it been since someone had looked at her with an actual desire to protect her?

JJ clenched her jaw, forcing the emotion to pass, and she sensed Emily was doing the same.

"Hey, I'm going to wash and shave the area quickly, okay?" Emily asked.

"Yeah, sounds good. We all know what a hairy ape I am," JJ shot back sarcastically, and Emily shook her head with a smirk as she moved over to the sink. Grabbing a disposable razor and a wet towel, she moved back to JJ and sat down in the stool.

"No matter how light and sparse your body hair is, sweetheart, it's still there," Emily told her and gently brought the towel to her skin. Softly but firmly, she washed off JJ's abdomen before popping the casing off of the razor and cleaning the area.

Instinctively, a little laugh escaped from JJ as she breathed in.

"Ticklish?" Emily asked, giving the younger woman another second to compose herself before bringing the razor back to her side.

"Just a little bit," JJ replied softly, and managed to hold it together for the next few moments. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she was tickled by the razor or Emily's hand lightly resting on her hip.

Finally, Emily was done, and she scooted back over to the table to grab a stencil and a spray bottle.

"I printed off more than one of these," Emily said, raising up her hand with the stencil. "So if it doesn't look just right, we'll modify it, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," JJ said, and she tried not to shiver again as Emily sprayed some sort of light purple liquid onto her skin and patted it gently into her skin.

"So. You nervous at all?" Emily asked as she carefully held the light sheet an inch away from her skin, softly pressing it against her skin starting from her hip and moving upward.

"I thought I would be," JJ told her, "but no. Getting this just feels...right."

"Good. That's how you know you're getting the right tattoo." Emily flashed a quick smile up at JJ before delicately pulling the sheet off, and JJ looked down to see the design's outline resting on her skin in light purple marking.

Emily examined the outline for a few seconds before rolling her stool backwards. "Take a look in the mirror and see what you think. If anything looks off to you, now is the time to fix it."

Mindful of her movements, JJ made her way over to the full-length mirror on the wall and examined herself closely.

When she saw her own reflection, the blonde couldn't help but smile. The outline was entirely purple and none of the shading or coloring was filled in, but a strong feeling of happiness flooded her senses. The tree, the chains, the egg, the moons, and that damn blackbird, broken but unbreakable, all stared back at her in stark beauty. The designs looked like they were made for her body, and JJ was eternally grateful that Emily had somehow managed to capture and communicate everything she wanted to express.

More than anything else, JJ just felt a proud relief. She had already developed such a strong emotional attachment to the art. They were spiritually a part of herself; and now? Now they'd be a physical part, too.

JJ took a few more minutes to examine herself in the mirror, noting the way it wrapped around her rib cage, before turning back to Emily.

"You're a fucking magician, you know that?" JJ said, grinning at Emily.

"Woah! Ms. Jareau _curses_!"

"Yeah, you know what, _fuck _you, Prentiss," she threw back sassily, exchanging a grin with the artist as she sauntered back to Emily. "Alright. Where do you want me?"

"Where do I want you?" Emily repeated back with a raised brow, and JJ rolled her eyes.

"Do you want to tattoo me while I'm standing?" JJ clarified pointedly.

Emily laughed and motioned towards the long, waist height piece of furniture. "You can lay down there. Have your back facing me. We'll cover the outline and _maybe _a little colored shading today."

Excited to get started, JJ climbed onto the cushioned table and lay herself down as Emily had instructed. The material was a little cold, but more comfortable than she had anticipated, and she settled down against the long cushion.

She glanced over her shoulder at the tattoo artist, who was propping up her original colored sketch and repositioning the plastic ink-filled cups in some sort of order. Emily was wearing her usual frayed band tee partially tucked into her jeans and off-centered belt. JJ couldn't help a smile from spreading across her face as she took in the older woman's general presence - a genuinely positive energy always seemed to beam from her, and a small part of her never wanted to leave the shop.

Emily caught JJ staring, and she smiled down at her, scooting closer towards her with the tattoo machine in hand.

"Whatcha smiling at, Jayj?" Emily asked, eyes sparkling, and JJ just shook her head.

"Guess I'm just happy to be here."

Emily maintained eye contact with her for a few moments, basking in a mutual smile, before closing the distance between her stool and JJ's table. "Good. Because you probably won't be super happy half an hour into this."

"Probably not," JJ agreed, "but somehow, I'm pretty sure I'm in good hands."

She looked at her for a little longer before Emily averted her eyes - was that a hint of a blush on her cheeks? - before Emily placed one gloved hand lightly on JJ's hips. "I'd definitely say you are. But, last chance to back out. Are you ready?"

"Very ready," JJ affirmed, and with one last shared look, Emily flicked her thumb and brought the tattoo machine whirring to life. JJ watched as she dipped the vibrating bundle of needles into the plastic cup with the black ink and then came back to her.

Emily noticed as JJ sucked a breath in, and she massaged her hip gently with her left hand. "Don't hold your breath. You don't want to make any sudden movements, but you can still breathe normally." She waited for JJ to take a couple normal breaths before bringing the tattoo machine to the skin of her hip.

The initial bite of the needles on her skin stung more than she expected them to. JJ's eyebrows drew together and her eyes fluttered shut, but she didn't make a sound. For some reason, she didn't want Emily to see her affected by the pain level; after all, most of the tattoo artist's skin was covered in ink, and Emily's other clients probably took it just fine.

Emily must have noticed JJ's discomfort, because she smiled and said, "You're doing great, babe." JJ couldn't see the brunette's face with her back turned, but her voice automatically put her a little more at ease.

Emily lifted the machine from her skin every few seconds, and after a minute, she flicked the machine off and grabbed a thin towel.

JJ glanced down at her hip and watched the artist dab away excess ink from her skin. Once Emily had wiped the small pools of black away, she could see it - the beginnings of her markings. The outline of purple frayed rope splayed along her hipbone and side, but tracing the very bottom, JJ saw about an inch of a black line.

"It's beautiful," the blonde whispered, not aware of the words slipping out of her mouth.

Prentiss just raised an eyebrow, tattoo machine in hand. "Oh, yeah? You like the little black line? Thanks, it took me awhile to design that one."

JJ rolled her eyes, but felt a little giggle run through hers. "I bet it did. But seriously. This... is really cool."

"It is," Emily agreed as she flicked the machine back on and brought the needle to her skin again.

"Mm," JJ mumbled out in light discomfort. "I can definitely feel that."

"It's the first time your skin has felt a tattoo machine. Your pain sensors aren't sure how to respond," Emily explained. "It stings pretty bad now - especially on your abdomen - but I promise, in five or ten minutes, it won't sting quite as much."

JJ just nodded hesitantly, but as the minutes dragged by, she started seeing the truth in the artist's words. The scratching hurt, and the sting got worse when the tiny bundle of needles moved closer to her hipbone, but overall, she felt herself getting used to the sensation. Emily was lifting the tattoo machine every few seconds to soak up the excess ink, and she made sure to pause for longer amounts of time at around every minute mark.

"You're right," the blonde admitted through only mildly clenched teeth. "It is getting a little better." She didn't try to look at the other woman, mindful of keeping her body still, but could feel Emily grin down at her.

"You're a champ, Jayj," Emily told her encouragingly. "Seriously. The first time kinda sucks and some people don't handle the pain so well."

"Well, a lot of people don't already know and trust the people tattooing them, so that might have something to do with it."

"Nope. I tattooed a friend of multiple years once on her thigh and she ended up kicking me in the face."

"You're joking."

"I'm not! It took over an hour to finish the smallest thigh piece you've ever seen. And I promise you, every tattoo artist on this planet has a similar story."

"Fine, fine," JJ gave in. "I'll try to avoid kicking you in the face then."

"Thanks, my face sends its appreciation."

"Your face is welcome," JJ teased back, but hissed as the needle traced over her hipbone.

"You're doing great, darlin'," Emily said soothingly, bringing the needle away from her skin as she dabbed up the excess ink. JJ ventured another look downwards and admired how the lines of the ropes were coming together. She couldn't get too good of a view of her own hip from the way she was laying down, but from what she could tell, Emily was capturing the elegance of her design perfectly on her skin.

"It's getting better, just - please keep talking to me? It takes my mind off of it," the blonde requested apologetically, and Emily quickly put her at ease again.

"Of course, sweetheart. Helps a lot of people. Want your tattoo story now?"

"Yes please."

"Then your wish is my command. Which tat do you want to know about?"

JJ racked her brain for a moment; she had lately been picking tattoos based off of whatever she was looking at, but as the artist was behind her, she lost her visual prompts.

The needle brushed a particularly sensitive spot at the base of her rib cage, and JJ flinched. "Okay. Ow. Fuck. Left side of your rib cage, where you're tattooing me. Do you have anything there?"

The whirring stopped.

She was met with silence when, a few awkward seconds later, Emily patted her skin with the towel.

JJ looked over her shoulder at Emily, but the dark-haired woman didn't meet her eyes. Her jaw was tight, and her face held an expression she had never seen on her before.

"Em? What's wrong?"

Emily shook her head slightly, bringing her back from wherever her mind had gone, and she flipped the machine back on to resume tattooing.

"Ask me about a different one."

"Okay - sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, JJ, just... please ask me about a different one."

JJ gulped down her discomfort, immediately feeling guilty about whatever dark moment she had stumbled over. Emily's movements remained cool and controlled, the needles feeling as gentle as tiny puncture wounds possibly could feel, but something about the atmosphere had changed.

"Y-sure, yes, of course." The blonde racked her brain for anything safer. "The flowered half-sleeve. On your arm. What does that one mean?"

JJ noted a subtle change in Emily's breathing and was pleased when her carefree tone of voice returned. "Ah, the flowers. That's a pretty old tattoo, actually. The first 'big' piece I got."

"What type of flowers are in it?"

"Mostly chamomile."

The tattoo needles passed over a particularly sensitive area, and JJ flinched. "Hold on. You make fun of me for drinking tea, but you have _chamomile_ flowers on you?"

"You do know that chamomile is not just a plant to make tea out of, right? And hey, I drink tea occasionally! I only make fun of you for choosing it over caffeine."

"Alright, alright. Okay. Tell me why you have a half-sleeve of a plant that primarily exists to be made into delicious and soothing tea."

Emily chuckled, pulling her machine back to soak up the excess ink. She gave JJ a slightly longer break this time, which JJ accepted gratefully. "Well, while chamomile tea is delightful, the chamomile flower is also considered to be the national flower of Russia."

"No way."

"Jayj, out of all the weird stuff I've told you, _that's_ what you're expressing doubt over?"

The blonde rolled her eyes - or tried to, before wincing as Emily got back to work. The tattoo artist had made her way up the outline of the tree trunk and was now working on the blackbird and nest in the center of her rib cage. "Okay. Good point. But alright - chamomile is the flower of Russia, continue."

"Thanks for your permission." Emily couldn't help but laugh to herself. JJ got sassy when uncomfortable, and she'd file away that tidbit of information for future reference. "Anyway, the sleeve is mostly chamomile, but there are some rhizomatous perennial flowers and crocus in there. Because Russia is massive and has so many different regions and climates, they never declared an official flower. But there are a few that bear the name of 'flower of Russia'."

Emily continued to work the delicate lines into JJ's abdomen, and the younger woman eased into it. Whether her ribs were getting used to the needles or numbing themselves to it, she didn't know, but she wasn't about to complain.

"I told you my mom's an ambassador, right?" Emily asked, glancing back at her sketch to double-check her work.

"You did."

"Well, as a child, I bounced around a lot. I spent about a year each in a bunch of different countries. I was generally excited about checking out a new place, at least mildly, but I dreaded my mother's assignment in Russia."

"Really? Was that before you discovered your love of vodka?"

"So much sass today!" Emily chuckled, pulling the needle back to allow the laugh to ripple through her. "Okay, first off, teenage Emily was a whiskey girl. And second, I was seventeen years old. The Cold War was just ending, and everything was kind of a mess over there."

"Wow. What was that like, being an American?" JJ asked. Emily was leaning back to dip her machine into the ink cup, and JJ took the opportunity to look at the tattoo outline and Emily. Both were a beautiful sight. JJ blushed as the thought crossed her mind, and she focused her attention again on the outline. It was coming together well, and much more quickly than JJ had anticipated.

"Honestly? Not that bad," Emily told her, bringing the machine back to JJ's abdomen. Her free hand was resting lightly on JJ's stomach, warm and soft. "Russians were the enemy back then, y'know? Growing up, getting blown up by Soviet nukes was _the_ threat. Even when the war was ending and the Soviet Union was splintering apart, we were always supposed to view them as the bad guy. Even being the daughter of an ambassador, I was scared. I thought it would be such an awkward mess. Me, the wild, tattooed, girl-fuckin' American, right in the middle of Moscow."

The blonde couldn't help but smile at Emily's description of her younger self. She had never seen a photograph, but she could picture it perfectly - a dorky, angsty, misunderstood teenage Emily Prentiss wandering around Red Square.

"I came in expecting everybody to be a raging alcoholic, and the men to be abusive, and the women to be depressed, and to be the target of dirty glares and nasty comments if I spoke and my American accent identified me. I expected to have the most stifling and uncomfortable year of my life there."

"And?"

"And, I spent my first night in Russia learning how to make pirozhki from a militaristic old Russian grandmother who didn't speak a word of English."

JJ didn't even try to contain the smile that spread across her face. She could picture that one even better - a dorky, angsty, misunderstood teenage Emily Prentiss being bossed around by an old Russian woman in a kitchen. "How did the pirozhki taste?"

"Oh, hers were fantastic. Mine were awful. Disastrous. More effective than the US's nuclear warheads, that's for sure." JJ and Emily both laughed, and a third laugh joined them.

"I don't know what you're talking about, ladies, but I can verify that Prentiss is a shit cook," Derek announced with a twinkle in his eye as he stepped into the room. He had a client in tow and began setting up the other side of the room.

"Thanks for the warning, Derek," JJ called back, and Emily just shook her head.

"You two always team up on me. I should've known better than to introduce you."

"He actually introduced me to _you_," the blonde reminded her with an eyebrow raise, though the brunette couldn't see from her tattooing position.

"Mhm... Maybe I'll just leave the story there."

"Fine, fine. Please keep going, Em."

Emily dramatically cleared her throat. "So! There I was, making toxic pirozhki with an elderly Russian woman, and she got so frustrated with me that she ended up kicking me out of the kitchen. Which was probably for the best. Here, I'll give you a quick break."

It took JJ a second to understood what Emily meant, but then she felt the dab of the artist's towelette and heard her sit back. Truth be told, JJ was so invested in her conversation with Emily that she had temporarily forgotten about the pain of the needle.

"It's okay," JJ clarified, her eyes connecting with the brunette's. "You can keep going. I mean, if you want to."

Emily beamed down at the blonde, pride evident in her expression. "Look at you! You're already a tough motherfucker with the needle!"

"Well, I did promise you I wouldn't kick you in the face, so I suppose I should keep to my word," JJ tossed back nonchalantly, and Emily chuckled before flicking on the machine again. The sound of the whirring sent a comfortable buzz down JJ's spine. "So. You got kicked out of the kitchen," she prompted.

"Right! There I was, in an old Russian woman's home and failing horribly at learning how to make pirozhki," Emily continued, trailing the needle along a tree branch. The outline was moving up dangerously close to her bra line, and she tried to keep her attention trained on the ink; _stay professional, Em._ "So, at this point I hadn't picked up any Russian, and she didn't know any English, so I just kind of stayed in their living room and walked around, looking at what was decorating the walls."

"Hadn't yet? Meaning you did pick up Russian?"

"Yeah, it's not that hard," Emily told her. "Not as easy as Italian or Spanish, but easier than Arabic for sure."

"...All of which you've just 'picked up'?"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"Prentiss!" JJ said sharply, and the use of her last name made Emily giggle. "Jesus, if I were super multilingual like that, I'd probably talk about it all the time."

"If I start telling you the story in Russian, will you stop derailing it?"

JJ pretended to mull it over in her head. "I mean, I do want to understand the rest of the story, but hearing you speak Russian would be cool, too."

The two of them heard a couple snorts from the other side of the room, and they both glanced back at the other artist and client, who were apparently mid-inking and listening to every word of JJ's and Emily's conversation.

"Fuck off, Morgan," Emily hollered across the room. "Entertain your own damn client."

This earned another laugh, and she just shook her head, turning back to JJ. "Alright, so eventually, the old Russian woman is finished making her non-lethal pirozhki and comes into the living room. I was looking at a small painting of a chamomile flower - not that I knew what I was observing at the time - and suddenly, the woman got really excited."

"It's because of the tea, y'know."

"Fuck you too, Jayj," Emily teased, continuing to work ink into the outline. "So, I'm standing in front of this dumb flower painting, right? And this 80 year old woman who was chastising me in Russian twenty minutes ago for screwing up her pirozhki recipe is instantly really happy." She dabbed the excess ink from JJ's torso. "And then she points to the small Russian flag in the corner. I didn't know what her flailing was about. Like, 'yes, old Russian woman, I am aware that we are in Russia, thanks for the reminder' - but eventually, she keeps making these flower gestures with her hand, and she's pointing between the flower and the flag, and it suddenly dawns on me what she's saying. It's the Russian national flower."

"That's...really sweet."

"It was. She keeps pointing at the flower while saying 'romashka,' so I tentatively say 'romashka,' and she claps her hands together and nods."

"Wow. 'Hello' and 'where is the bathroom?' were the first things I learned in Spanish, but you went straight for the flower names," JJ joked.

"Right? I knew 'hello' already, but 'chamomile' was my second word. Not that I had figured it out yet - it wasn't until the woman dragged me back into her kitchen and made me tea while pointing at the mug and yelling 'romashka!' that I knew it was chamomile."

"Ha! I knew it all came down to the tea!" she proclaimed triumphantly. At this point, Emily was taking very few breaks, and JJ was more or less used to the tattoo machine. Except when the needle ran over particularly sensitive spots, she really didn't mind the feeling.

"If that's what floats your boat, then sure, darling," Emily conceded, smiling down at the blonde. "I'm starting on the phases of the moon, so this part might be a little more painful, okay?" JJ nodded, and Emily moved further upward, shifting JJ's bra up a tiny bit. The artist shivered a little bit, unaware that the blonde was also intimately aware of the contact. Emily cleared her throat and brought the machine back to her skin, continuing her story. "It ended up being a really nice night. We didn't speak a word of each other's languages, but she tried to show me as much of her world as she could, and I tried to show her some of mine. It really defined the whole trip, y'know? Russians have different mannerisms and cultural norms than Americans do, but they were some of the friendliest and most lively people I've ever met. I cherished my time in Moscow and have always wanted to go back. A year and a half after that trip, I was still really moved by those experiences - they really opened up my eyes to a lot - and I thought I'd get a chamomile flower sleeve to honor it."

A strong sense of peace washed over JJ as Emily finished her story. Emily was cloaked in banter and sarcasm and intrigue, but her tattoos communicated so much about her life and her development as a person. JJ felt privileged to hear about it all.

"Thank you," was all JJ could think of to say, but the dark-haired woman felt the sincerity of her words and replied with a simple, "Of course."

"I still think Prentiss should've come back with a prison tattoo," Morgan called out, and Emily let out a loud scoff.

"Prison tattoo?" the blonde asked, knowing she was about to show her naivete. "Those are big in Russia, right?"

"Oh, my sweet JJ," is all Emily said before the two artists chuckled. "How about this, come to my apartment sometime and I'll show you Eastern Promises."

JJ could have sworn Penelope appeared out of thin air, but suddenly, the perky pink-n-purple haired hacker-artist was poking her head through the doorway. "Did someone say... Eastern Promises?"

"You're not invited," Derek told her.

"And what makes you think _you_ are?" Emily questioned. As usual, JJ was left smiling to herself, enjoying the BAU artists' interactions.

"If he's invited, I'm invited," Pen said pointedly.

"You just want to see Viggo Mortensen tattooed and shirtless."

"That's all anyone wants to see, Morgan," Pen shot back. "You think people watch for the plo- oh holy JavaScript, that is _beautiful_!"

Out of the corner of her eye, JJ could see that Garcia was now standing over her and Emily, and judging by the look in her eye, Penelope was impressed.

"Our girl's taking it like a pro," Emily told her. "We're doing the whole outline in one sitting."

"That is just so gorgeous!" Pen cooed. "I had no idea you wanted to go that big, JJ, but that is downright divine."

"Thanks, Pen," JJ called back, careful not to move too much. Emily was working her way towards the beginning of the line of moons, which began right underneath her breast, and JJ tried to stay perfectly still.

"I'm gonna get back to the desk, chickadees, but I can't wait to see the finished product on that one!" Penelope started to leave the room, but turned back right before the threshold. "But really. Eastern Promises. Tonight. I'll be at your door at 10pm, Emily, so be ready."

"Thanks so much for accepting my invitation, Penelope! I look forward to your company!" Emily called back sarcastically.

Morgan was just finishing up with his client and turned back to Emily. "So, sounds like 10pm at yours?"

"Guess so," Emily chuckled. "You in, Jayj?"

"Sure thing," JJ replied. "Will you walk me through how to clean this thing tonight?"

"Of course. Because of the size, it'll be easiest to wash it off in the shower. You'll actually need to leave the bandage on for a few hours, so if you keep it on until I finish work, the timing will be perfect."

"Sounds good to me," JJ affirmed.

It was a little more than two hours since Emily started on JJ when she finally put the finishing touches on the outline. "Let's hold off on any color for now," Em told her, and she examined her work carefully, filling in little incomplete lines here and there, before she was satisfied that the outline was solid. "Want to look in the mirror before I bandage you up?"

Extremely carefully, JJ eased herself off of the table and shuffled over to the full-length mirror, trying to restrict the natural roll of her hips.

Excitement tore through her when she first saw herself in the mirror. Almost all of the skin on her torso was reddened, and her skin ached like she had gotten a really bad sunburn, but _shit_. The outline now adorning her skin was every bit as elegant and incredible as it was on paper. Maybe even more so, since now, the design wrapped around her side the way the piece was intended to. It was on her skin. _In_ her skin. It was a part of her now.

JJ didn't realize she was smiling until her cheeks started to ache. Emily had been watching the whole scene with quiet joy and walked up behind her, appreciating JJ's view. "You like?"

"Jesus, Em. How did you even do this?"

"A tattoo machine... ink... pretty sure you were there, do you need another two hours of needles in your skin to jog your memory?"

JJ turned around and faced Emily with a smirk. "Ha, ha. You're hilarious. But seriously, Em, how did you do this? Everything I was looking for... You pulled it all off."

Emily was going to sling back something sarcastic, but as a small blush crept up into her cheeks, she decided not to. "I don't know. I'm glad, though. I'm glad it's living up to your expectations."

"It exceeded them before you even started," JJ told her seriously, examining her side in the mirror. "God, this is perfect."

Prentiss just looked at her with a smile playing on her lips. This was the most gratifying part of being a tattoo artist - seeing a client observe a new piece for the first time.

"This is just the outline, Jayj - wait until I pack the color in. It's gonna blow your mind." JJ just nodded, still transfixed. "Alright, darling, I should wrap that up. Your skin will be at its most vulnerable for the next few hours. I'm going to wrap a couple large bandages over it, so just leave it be until you come over tonight."

"Sounds good," JJ replied. "Is there anything I should bring over?"

"Just a bathing suit if you want me to actually help you wash it off in the shower, but they're simple instructions," Emily told her, opening up the bottom drawer of her work station. She pulled out what looked like antibacterial soap, a couple large strips of bandage, and a roll of medical tape. "Do you have a tube of Aquaphor or something similar at home?"

"I do."

"Okay, good. Aquaphor and an unscented mild antibacterial soap is all you'll need to heal it." Emily indicated for JJ to lift up her arm, and she did, allowing the tattoo artist to gently wash her newly inked skin. "Besides that, it's all about taking it easy on your skin. Try not to move the area more than necessary. Wear a loose shirt - nothing that chafes - and don't irritate it. Scratching the skin will further inflame the area, pull out the ink, and increase the risk of infection. If the itching is really bad, lightly slapping the area will relieve it. Keep it clean, but don't overclean it. I'll show you later. Don't expose your abdomen to the sun for a few weeks. And finally, don't worry if black ink flakes off onto your clothing. Your skin will peel and excess ink will come out, but your tattoo isn't falling out - once the healing process is over, it'll look good as new."

"Okay... I'll try to remember all that," JJ said, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"You won't need to," Emily said, patting dry the area before taping the large bandages in place. "Check in with Pen on your way out - there are a stack of tattoo aftercare instructions at the front desk."

"Great... Thank you, Em. Really."

Emily looked into her eyes, soaking in all the various emotions streaked in her steely blue irises, and felt a wave of warmth flood her body. "Thanks for picking me to tattoo you, Jayj. This is one of the most special pieces I've had the opportunity to work on."

JJ opened her mouth to reply, but Garcia popped into the background and interrupted with a quick, "Em, your next appointment's here."

"Oh - yeah, go ahead and send him back here. JJ and I are just about done."

Pen disappeared, and the blonde cleared her throat. "I'll let you get back to work. But I'll keep the bandage on and only engage in harmless activities for the next few hours... 10pm at yours?"

"Yeah, I actually get off at 8, so you can stop by any time after that. Might be easier to teach you how to clean your tat without Pen and Derek arguing over who gets to teach you about Russian prison tattooing first."

"I still don't know what Eastern Promises is. It's a movie? About Russian prison tattoos?"

"It is indeed a movie, and yes, prison ink is a major topic," Emily confirmed. "But Pen and Derek have turned every tattoo-themed movie into an elaborate drinking game."

"Why does that not surprise me... And how many tattoo-themed movies are there?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you?" Emily said with a twinkle in her eye. A door creaked open and she glanced behind JJ, waving at the man who walked in. "Hey, go ahead and take a seat in the chair, I'll be with you in just a sec."

"I'll prepare myself. Text me your address?" JJ said, carefully pulling her shirt down over her bandaged side and grabbing her purse from the table.

"Will do. See you later, Jayj." With one last smile, JJ left the back room and stopped by the front desk. Sorting out payment with Pen and grabbing an aftercare instruction sheet, she stepped back into the warm New Orleans air and smiled.

JJ felt free.

Linework - Linework - Linework

She knocked on Emily's apartment door at exactly 9pm, a six-pack of beer in her free hand. Judging by the BAU artists' party habits, she assumed Em's kitchen would probably resemble a bar, but showing up to someone's place for the first time empty handed seemed rude.

She was a little nervous, though she couldn't really pinpoint why. She and the tattoo artist had definitely become close friends, but something about seeing where she lived seemed so... intimate?

The door opened, cutting JJ's slightly paranoid thoughts short, and Emily quickly welcomed her inside.

"Hey, uh, I figured I'd bring some beer, because, uh, you like beer."

"Thanks, Jayj, that was sweet of you," Emily said, smiling at the blonde's awkwardness. She graciously accepted the six-pack from her and led her past the little hallway into the connected living room and kitchen. She set the bottles down on the counter. "So. How bad is your skin itching right now?"

"Oh my god, _so_ bad," JJ instantly confessed, and Emily nodded knowingly with a sympathetic smile. "I've been patting it now and then like you mentioned, but I kind of want to scratch my entire side off with a live chainsaw."

"Welcome to your life for the next week!" Emily said with sarcastic enthusiasm, and JJ audibly groaned. "But let's go ahead and wash it, sound good? That'll sooth the itch a bit."

"Yes please," JJ said gratefully. "Should I take off the bandage?"

"Yes, but peel it slowly starting from one side, and if you feel any of it sticking to your skin, stop pulling. Quite a bit of plasma and blood has oozed out of your skin at this point, and if you pull while it's sticking, it could damage the tattoo. Anyway, go ahead and take the bandage off if you can. Did you bring a bathing suit or anything?"

"Yeah, I have swim trunks under here," JJ said, gesturing down to her baggy pants.

"Great. I'm going to go ahead and get the shower to the proper temperature, come on in when you're ready." Emily made her way down a short hallway to what she assumed was the bathroom, and JJ pulled her shirt off.

JJ took the opportunity to examine her surroundings more carefully. The apartment was so very _Emily - _there were a lot of rock posters and tattoo prints on the walls, but large landscapes also adorned every inch of free space. One was definitely from Venice, and another looked like a Russian landscape. She didn't recognize the locations of some of the others, but she was guessing they were all the countries she had visited.

Turning her attention back to her side, she followed Emily's instructions and peeled the bandage off carefully. Luckily, none of it stuck to her skin, and the cold air hitting her skin for the first time in awhile felt pretty nice.

Suddenly, something furry and soft brushed up against her ankle, and a yelp burst out of her throat.

"Jayj? You okay?" Emily said, hurrying back into the living room.

"Yeah, sorry," JJ said with embarrassment, looking down to see a cute black cat curling around her ankle. "I didn't know you had a pet and was kind of caught by surprise."

"Aww, are you scaring my new friend, baby?" Emily cooed in a high-pitched voice, bending down to pet the cat and kiss him on the nose. The cat stared at Emily with an unimpressed face, but the tattooed woman continued to shower his face with kisses. "You're a little ninja, aren't you, Sergio."

JJ watched in awe as the swagger-filled tattoo artist was reduced to putty by a tiny, pissed off cat. "Oh my god, Em. You did strike me as a cat person, but I had no idea."

"Sergio is more than a cat, he's a life partner, aren't you?" Emily kept cooing, picking up the cat. The furry feline turned his head to look at JJ, his eyes pleading for help. "Yes, you're my little life partner. You poop in a box and don't hog the covers, that's all I need, isn't it, Sergio."

"Man, you've got low standards," JJ teased.

"I don't appreciate your judgment," Emily deadpanned back. "Okay, down you go, Serg. Let me wash the fur off my hands real fast, Jayj, but shower's ready for ya."

"Do I just... hop in?"

"Yep, but keep your tattoo out of the direct stream of water until I get there. Then, we'll wash the area and gently clean off any ooze and blood that's come out of your skin. Unscented, gentle soap. Not for too long - we don't want to soak your tattoo, just clean the area so scabs don't form and distort the outline. You'll do that three to five times a day for the first week."

"Sounds good to me," JJ responded as she walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower-tub combination. Before long, Emily reappeared.

"Alright, you're going to turn your abdomen towards the water and I'm going to demonstrate how you wash it, k?" she said while squeezing some soap into her left hand.

JJ nodded and turned herself around, lifting her arm as an invitation. Emily brought her cupped palm to JJ's side, tenderly massaging the liquid on her skin as the shower's hot stream cascaded down her side. JJ let her eyes flutter shut, enjoying the sensation of the dark-haired woman's hands on her abdomen. True to Emily's words, the itching almost immediately dissipated, and relief flooded her senses.

Emily continued talking about the healing process as she gently worked her fingers over the area, softening the areas where scabs were developing. Mostly, she was just talking to distract herself from the fact that she was touching JJ so intimately - in her own fucking shower, no less. _Chill, Prentiss_, she chastised herself. _She's your friend and client. Be respectful._

A minute later, Emily was satisfied with her cleaning job, and she turned the shower handle to the off position. Grabbing a towel from the rack, she softly patted JJ's abdomen dry. "Careful with the towel, too," Emily told her. "You don't want to rub or irritate anything - pat it carefully like this."

"Got it. Seems fairly simple," JJ responded. "Anything else I need to do after?"

"In a few days, you're gonna want to put a thin - very, very thin - layer of Aquaphor over the tattooed skin, since moisturized skin heals a lot better than dry skin does. But right now, since it's still oozing, adding Aquaphor to the mix will just clog the area."

"And I don't need to bandage it again?"

"Nope. Just wear loose clothing. Newly tattooed skin is essentially just skin covered in tiny puncture wounds, so it needs to breathe, just as anything else would."

Once JJ's skin was dry, Emily left JJ to change out of her wet swim trunks and put her pants back on in privacy. When JJ emerged a couple minutes later, Emily was in the kitchen.

"Hey," Em greeted, glancing over her shoulder when she heard footsteps behind her. "I'm gonna make myself a cup of coffee, do you want me to put tea on for you or anything?"

"That'd be really nice actually, thanks," JJ said, instinctively stepping closer and touching Emily's back softly. She let her hand massage Em's upper back for a couple seconds before her cheeks started feeling warm, and then she drew her hand back. Emily made a nondescript noise and reached for an almost full box of tea bags, clearly newly opened.

JJ examined the box, and she couldn't help but smile when she read the title. "Chai? Did you pick a box of it up after I had it at the coffee shop a couple weeks ago?"

"What? No," Emily responded a little too quickly as she dropped a tea bag into a mug for JJ. She looked over at JJ again, who was watching her with a small smile on her face. Emily gulped, both uncomfortable and electrified under the blonde's gaze. "I just, uh..."

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment, and the older woman was instantly relieved. "That's probably them," Emily said and quickly headed off in the direction of the door.

JJ ran her thumb over the mug, watching the other woman's back as sped away with a fair amount of anxiety. _What just happened?_

She heard Penelope and Derek's excited voices as they greeted Emily, and JJ went to join them, shaking off the awkward moment.

Penelope's hug was slightly less death-grippy than it normally was, making sure she didn't hurt her newly tattooed skin, and Derek gave her the usual "what's up, Baby Girl" with an accompanying shoulder squeeze. JJ and Emily's eyes made contact, and Emily offered her a small smile.

"You ready to get this Slavic shitstorm started, sexies?!" Pen exclaimed excitedly, pulling out a handle of vodka and setting it on the coffee table near the TV. "Em, grab the shot glasses."

"You really like this movie, don't you?" JJ asked with a raised eyebrow, and Pen froze in place, turning towards JJ.

"It's Viggo, JJ. VIGGO."

"You two are on a first name basis?" the blonde teased.

"It's a Russian-speaking modern day Aragorn covered head-to-toe in prison tattoos! _Prison tattoos!_ I swear, I would let that man give me a full KGB interrogation-"

"Chill, Mama," Derek said, reaching for Emily's shot glasses. "Em, JJ, you playing?"

The two looked at each other, exchanging hesitant glances. "I'm gonna take it easy tonight, but you guys have fun," Emily said, and JJ nodded in agreement.

"Oh, JJ, just wait, Former Ink Virgin. You will most certainly need some vodka to handle the _sexiness_ that is Vi-"

"Pen, if you verbally orgasm to tattooed Russian Viggo one more time, I'm throwing you out of my apartment," Emily warned, and Garcia wisely heeded her threat.

"Okay, so, which one of you three is gonna give me the rundown on Russian prison ink?" JJ asked and braced herself. Sure enough, several voices overloaded her at once, and she did her best to compile all the information she was given into something coherent - a skill that was definitely improving the more time she spent with the BAU artists.

Ten confusing minutes later, JJ had a mental file in her head on the subject. In the Russian criminal world, apparently tattoos were a language of their own and functioned almost like a ribbon rack on a military uniform. Each image had its own criminal association - cats were for thievery, daggers were for sex crimes, skulls were for noteworthy murders. Churches were a common theme, with the number of towers providing information on their sentences, and barbed wire on the forehead indicated a life sentence without parole. What surprised JJ the most was the role honor played for the Vory v Zakone, those who were professional criminals - tattoos were also given for honor violations. Goats, for instance, were tattooed into informants against their will. Unearned honorable tattoos that were forged on a person's skin ended up being cut from the inmate's body.

"If you can read prison tattoos, you can tell a man's entire life story," Morgan had said. "Every accomplishment, every failure. His rank and accomplices. All of it is in his skin."

JJ loved the meanings behind all of the images - Russian prison ink was her favorite of the traditions that the BAU had described to her - but her stomach turned as they described the way prisoners would slice designs into skin and fill the cuts with melted rubber.

"Okay, ew, let's stop there," JJ said when Penelope began describing the process in extreme detail.

"No, but see, another method was sharpening a guitar string and shoving it up the electric shaver, so when you turn the shaver on-"

"Enough, Pen, you're freaking JJ out," Emily laughed, and Garcia finally shut up. "I think that should be enough context for right now. Should I pop the movie in?"

Derek sat down next to Pen on the couch, arranging the shot glasses in front of them, and Emily and JJ settled down in opposite chairs with their respective mugs.

"You know you aren't going to stay awake through the entire movie, right?" Emily pointed out.

"Nonsense! When do I ever fall asleep during movies?!" Garcia countered indignantly.

"Um, only every time you and Derek have play a dumb drinking game?" answered Em. "You two get super drunk really fast and then fall asleep halfway through the movie."

"That never happens!" Pen cried out. Both Emily and Morgan gave her a knowing look. "...Maybe sometimes." They continued staring at her. "Okay fine, but I can stay awake. Occasionally. Just put the damn movie on, assholes."

Linework - Linework - Linework

Sure enough, Derek and Penelope had dozed off on the couch by the end, his tribal-covered arm resting protectively over Pen's shoulders and Pen's face buried into Morgan's side. JJ had let her eyes flutter shut too, but sat up in her chair and stretched her arms out. Her side was itchy, but it wasn't quite as bad as earlier. She glanced over at Emily's curled up form in the chair, expecting her to be asleep, too, but saw her eyes open and staring into space.

"Hey, Em," she called out softly, keeping her voice quiet to avoid disturbing the sleeping artists.

Emily was snapped back into the present, and she looked back at JJ, smiling at her. "Hey. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah, though I started nodding off towards the end," JJ confessed. "Not as bad as those two, though."

"That's how a movie night with them always goes. They're like five year olds on a sugar high for the first half, but always end up cuddling and asleep on the couch by the end."

"I can't blame them," the blonde said with a smile. "I'm getting pretty tired myself, though, so I think I should probably head home."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks for coming over."

"Thanks for having me, and for showing me how to take care of the tattoo and everything," she said sincerely as she sat up.

She started walking over to the table to pick up her purse, when Emily called out, "JJ, wait." The blonde turned back to her with an inquisitive expression.

"I..." Emily trailed off and then sighed. "Can we talk for a second?"

"Of course..." JJ responded, confused. "Here, or?"

"We can go to my room," Emily said, tilting her head towards the closed door. JJ nodded and waited as Emily quietly got up from her chair, and JJ followed her into the bedroom. Emily closed the door behind them and sat at the foot of the bed, indicating that the younger woman could sit next to her.

JJ settled down beside her, running her fingers through her hair a couple times while waiting for the brunette to speak. It was a few seconds before she did.

"I'm sorry," Emily told her, eyes clouding over with an emotion JJ couldn't quite read.

"For...?"

"For snapping at you earlier today. When you asked about my rib tattoo."

"Oh," JJ said, her breath catching in her throat. "No, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I didn't mean to bring up whatever memories I evidently triggered. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"It's not that," Em replied. "I meant it when I said you could ask me about any of them, and I have every intention of being completely honest with you. Especially since you always have been with me."

"I told you, Em, you aren't obligated to tell me your darkest secrets just because I've spilled all of mine onto you," JJ told her forcefully, emotion building in her throat. "I'm so sorry if I've made you feel like you have to. I don't expect that."

Emily shook her head, and JJ could tell the beginnings of tears were rising in the tattoo artist's eyes. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the bottom of her t-shirt.

"Em, you really don't have to..." JJ began to say, but Emily had already pulled up her shirt. Swallowing, JJ looked into Emily's eyes for a few seconds before leaning in closer to examine the piece. Trailing along her rib cage right beneath her bra was a tree bough - simply drawn, but nice looking. A bird cage hung from the bottom branch, open and empty. It was elegantly done, but the lack of color or detailed shading made it have a mournful feel to it.

"It's pretty," JJ told her softly, looking back up at Emily. "But... what does it mean? Only if you want to tell me. It's really, really okay if you don't want to talk about it."

Emily sighed, running her fingers over the tattoo before lowering her shirt. She inhaled and exhaled a couple times before speaking. "I got it around the time I turned sixteen. I actually have this elaborate story for whenever people ask about it. Not that many people do, since my shirt generally covers it. But there's this story I have of me being an angsty teenager and feeling caged, what with moving around all the time and all. And growing up liking girls with a mother who couldn't stand the thought of her daughter 'disgracing' her prestigious name like that. There are always an assortment of anecdotes to back it up, of course. I pulled off some crazy shenanigans when I was a teenager, so there's never a shortage of material to pull from."

JJ nodded slowly, trying to decode the subtext in Emily's words. "...But? It's not true?"

"The stories are always true enough, but that's not the reason I got it," Emily told her sadly. JJ's heart ached at the tone of Emily's voice, and she wished more than anything that she could take her pain away. Her muscles ached to pull her into a tight hug and never let her go, but she restrained herself, sensing that the older woman needed space right now.

"I'm sorry," JJ whispered instead.

"I'm not ready to tell you the real story yet," the dark-haired woman said, meeting her eyes with an intense sadness that struck JJ to her core. "I will. I will in time. But you of all people would never forgive me, and I just can't do it right now. It's selfish. But I really enjoy your friendship, and I don't want to jeopardize that."

JJ was taken aback, completely confused by what Emily was saying. "You can't possibly have ever done something I wouldn't be able to forgive you for. I care about you, Em. Whatever happened will not change the way I see you."

Emily just laughed to herself, soft and mirthlessly. "We'll see about that, Jayj. But that's a conversation for another day. I'm sorry for dampening the mood. I just felt the need to explain my behavior earlier."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," she said, watching Emily intently, but the other woman turned away, breaking off eye contact. She brought her hand to Emily's shoulder but retracted her hand, not wanting to cross any of her boundaries.

"I'm sorry," Emily repeated. "It's getting late, I should let you get to bed. Thanks for today, I really did have a good time with you."

"Em..."

"Let me know if you have any questions about taking care of that bad boy, okay?" Emily said, an air of professionalism washing over her again. Her voice was back to normal, but JJ had grown to read her well enough to detect the remnants of sadness that she couldn't quite mask.

JJ just studied her face silently, considering whether fighting to stay would help or hurt her, before finally deciding to leave her be.

"Yeah. I will," JJ said. Emily smiled softly and got up, opening her bedroom door and walking towards the entryway with her.

"We'll hang out soon, though, right?" the blonde asked nervously. "Work's been slow lately, so if you ever want to grab coffee or anything... I really like spending time with you."

"Me too," Emily agreed, her smile a little more genuine this time. "We'll definitely hang soon. Derek and Pen consider you part of the gang now - I do, too - so I'll keep you in the loop about plans, yeah?"

"Sounds great," JJ nodded, crossing the threshold of the door, before turning back to Emily. "Hey, you know I have your back right? No matter what."

Emily smiled, her eyes sad, and blinked a few times. "I know. Some things are just harder to share than others."

JJ took a step forward and enveloped the other woman in her arms, which to her relief, Emily accepted easily. She felt the brunette's arms wrap around her waist and pull her closer, and JJ nuzzled her face into the older woman's neck. Her body was warm and soft and delicate, and the blonde tried to pass on as much support and comfort as she possibly could through touch.

She wasn't sure how long they stood in Emily's doorway like that, completely silent but tightly embraced. It was awhile, though, and JJ could feel Emily's body slowly relaxing against her. With one hand, she massaged her back slowly, and JJ felt Emily's breathing slow against her. Whatever turmoil Emily was going through, JJ tried her best to soothe it.

Eventually, JJ felt Emily's arms loosen around her, and she kissed her hairline softly before pulling back. "You ever want to talk, I'm just a phone call away, okay?"

"Thank you, Jayj," Emily said sincerely, and JJ felt fairly confident that she actually would if she needed to. "Same goes for you, y'know."

"I know," JJ told her, voice soft. She reached her hand up to touch the tattoo artist's bicep once more before taking a step back. "Sleep well, Em." Her eyes held Emily's for a few more moments, warmth and support transferring through their gazes, before Em said her final goodbye and took a step back.

After Emily closed the door, JJ waited for a couple moments outside, her eyes fixed on the door's apartment number. Her hand instinctively touched her side, her fingers brushing over the fabric covering the outline of her tattoo.

She felt strong with the ink on her skin, even though it wasn't finished. She was just...at peace. More alive. But it wasn't just the tattoo; she also felt more alive because of the woman who put the ink there - someone she cared about so deeply, despite meeting her less than a month ago - and she fiercely hoped she would be able to return the favor.

JJ wasn't the only one who needed healing, that much was evident. But maybe they would be able to find peace together.

Linework - Linework - Linework

"The act of tattooing one's skin was a transformative declaration of power, an announcement to the world: _I am in control of my own flesh._" - Dan Brown, _The Lost Symbol_

A/N: Thanks for your continued support. This is a rebirth story as much as it is a tattoo AU, so as usual, if you have particular thoughts you'd like to see implemented, go ahead and shoot them my way. Have a good weekend!


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